


Forget Me Not Knight

by hawkfruit



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Awkward Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Flower Language, Magic, Mild Language, Minor Character Death, Minor Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Minor Violence, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), PERCIVAL DESERVES SLEEVES, POV Multiple, Post-Season 4, Season/Series 04, Season/Series 05, Secrets, Suspension Of Disbelief, Sweet Polly Oliver, also i am gOING TO GIVE PERCIVAL SLEEVES, gender disguise, i honestly have no idea how to tag this so I'm using TV tropes to help, i mean like im not gonna say who dies but im making so many OCs for this honestly anyone could, mild swearing, only in like one chapter but still
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-05-20 20:25:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14901398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkfruit/pseuds/hawkfruit
Summary: Answering complaints, King Arthur of Camelot decides to hire personal servants for his noble knights. But neither he, his knights, nor the trio themselves know the effect the three disguised servants that arrive will have in their new place of work. Percival in particular finds himself caught in fate's web as the gentle, timid florist Liliana set to serve him leaves an imprint on the castle— and on his heart. However, any budding romance between them must face the challenges of secrets, deceit, and uncertainty as faith in themselves, in others, and in the definition family is called into question. But as they say, "The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all."





	1. Daffodils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And of course she was assigned to the biggest, burliest, most intimidating person she had ever met, who she had yet to even hear the voice of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you like my story, I hope I can write it from start to finish (though I don't plan to drag the story out for the sake of length, don't worry), and I hope you like the OCs! Because there sure are a whole lot of them. This takes place in that three-ish four-ish year gap between seasons 4 and 5, to let me feel comfortable with fitting the events without feeling like I was ruining the timeline. Bare with me, as the timeline may be a bit muddled from this story, but it is something of an AU I guess with the OC, so I'll try my best! This is also somewhat inspired by the episode Lamia, since Percival gave me so many feelings, and it got me thinking what it would have been like had it been genuine, and not from an enchantment? I wouldn't say it's based on Lamia, or at all a direct AU of it, but it is roughly inspired by it. Ok, enough of my rambling.

Gwaine considered himself an easy-going man. He really did. He was a wanderer by nature, and in his past had found himself sleeping in the woods, in the mountains, in bars under stools, in caves— even in a literal pig pen, once. He had found himself in days without eating, had fought his way tooth and nail to get by, had survived off two scraps of bread for a fortnight in a freezing winter with only a piece of fabric on his back.

Now however, as he opened his dresser and found every single one of his garments, from his shirts to his trousers, covered in holes, he found himself nearly seething with annoyance.

He had told Colton at least a half dozen times in the past week that he was worried there had been rats clattering about his room at night, and had been assured it would be taken care of. Clearly, it had not. Sure, the boy was the servant to a dozen other knights and was most definitely overworked, but Gwaine felt irritated nonetheless.

Maybe castle life had made him too soft. 

The thought briefly crossed his mind as he stomped his way over to the throne room, where he knew the prince and some of the other knights and advisors would be preparing to have a meeting that morning before training, but it didn’t stay entertained for too long. The thought that didn’t cross his mind, however, as some of his now ruined shirts were clenched in tight fists at his sides, was the fact that he had neglected to put on any shirt at all. 

“Sire,” he said, almost sarcastically, but not entirely with disrespect (never having really been one to pay attention to titles he was more used to calling the prince by his first name anyway), “could I speak with you?” 

“If it really has to be now I- ” Arthur began to speak before glancing up from his previous conversation, taking in Gwaine’s appearance with some form of surprise. The few other people in the room followed suit. “I’m guessing it’s at least somewhat urgent?”

“You can tell me. I’d like to ask for extra hands around here. I know none of us are necessarily as high maintenance as a princess might be,” he could swear he heard Merlin scoff in the corner but chose to ignore it, “but this is really getting out of hand. You have Colton working himself half to death every day taking care of sweaty, cumbersome knights— myself included— leading to problems like,” he shook an angry fistful of fabric at the prince for emphasis, “this, which are quite frankly getting ridiculous. I try not to complain too much,” another scoff, though this one distinctly sounding more like Percy, “but at this point you might as well appoint me court jester instead of humble knight.”  
He drops the clothes on the floor except for one, holding it out to make his case. Lady luck was definitely on his side, it seemed, as the garment that happened to remain in his hands for display had a gaping hole in the center of where his chest would be, and many more scattered throughout in varying sizes. 

A couple of the men in the room snickered, though Gwaine held his peeved look as Arthur seemed to consider the options.

“Look, I know it isn’t the easiest, but would a new order of clothes from the court seamstresses not suffice? It’s hard enough to find servants as it is, especially now with farmers greatly needed, and this Colton seems to be doing just fine enough on his own to me.”

“Oh really? Just fine?” Gwaine challenged.

Just as Arthur was about to wave a hand to dismiss the subject entirely the boy in question dashed through the grand doors, somehow managing to carry a bucket for cleaning, five dishes of food for those who had decided to take their meals downstairs, and two sets of armor, simultaneously. 

“Excuse me, milord, I brought the roast beef over sliced bread, Cinnamon Brewet with rice porridge, and veal tart for those who requested, as well as freshly polished armor for those who must go on patrol just after this morning’s meeting, and- oh no! I forgot the rags to scrub the floor!” The scrawny brunet’s rambling finished with a cry of distress.

“Here, use one of these,” Gwaine chucked the pile of clothes at the boy, whose arms seemed to move for it without remembering they were holding something.

“Thank y-” he didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence, though, as he reached too far for the rags and tripped. Only through some form of a miracle was he close enough to the dining table to have the dishes land without any food spilling. Colton’s body, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so lucky as he hit his head against the edge of the table, and then landed awkwardly in a heap with his rear end in the bucket and the rest of him sprawled over the sets of armor. He let out a few nonsensical mumbles.

Lady Luck was having a field day, Gwaine decided, and he couldn’t be happier. 

As Merlin and a few others went to the boy’s aid, Arthur gave a long suffering sigh. “Alright, alright.” With an air of command he stated, “It has been brought to my attention,” a glance shot over at the boy, “that we seem to be a bit short on help. Colton’s workload will be greatly reduced,” a pitiful thank you came from the direction of the pile of limbs on the floor, “and personal servants will be found for most of the knights. Is that to your liking?”

Gwaine all but grinned from ear to ear. “Thank you.”

The roll of the prince’s eyes in response didn’t go unnoticed, but went unmentioned. “Leon, Percival, Elyan, is this arrangement agreeable to you all as well?” 

“Yes, of course, Sire.”

“Thank you.”

“Not I,” called out Elyan, who was already sitting, serving himself food. “There’s no need, sire, for me to have a personal servant. I can easily get by with how things are.”

“Very well, Colton will continue to serve to you, amongst some others. Is that all? Can I continue with matters that are in more dire need of my attention?” 

A chime of agreements let Arthur turn back to a mustached man giving a disgusted look to the whole scene standing near his side. Gwaine distantly recognized him as one of the noblemen who provided input in certain matters of Camelot, though Arthur didn't fully give him his attention again before he said, “And good god, Gwaine, cover up before you catch a cold or something.” 

Gwaine bent over to grab a shirt from the floor, holes and all, too glad he had gotten his way to really care about the draft against his back. He leaned over to Elyan with a teasing grin. “Trying to prove a point that you’re low maintenance?”

“I am an _adventurer_ ” Elyan shot back, though his words were said amicably. “I don’t need to bother a manservant to tend to my hand and foot when I can easily tend to myself, unlike some people around here, it seems.” 

“Ooh, ouch,” Gwaine said, as he snatched a piece of bread from the other’s plate. 

“Though from what I heard from Lady Guinevere,” Leon interjected with a wry smile, standing now closer to Elyan’s chair, alongside Percy, “those adventures were more along the lines of you hiding in horse stables and disguising yourself as an old woman.” 

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, I’m sure he much prefered to disguise himself as a _young_ woman,” Gwaine said after a hearty laugh. 

“Or the horse,” Percy said with his own half-grin. 

“Gwen claims she still has one of the disguises, and plans to keep it as a family heirloom, ” Merlin added as he walked by. 

“Oh shut up and give me back my food!” Elyan shot irritably, trying to snatch back a slice of bread from Gwaine, who held it easily above the reach of his sitting position.

“Need any help with that?” Gwaine raised the offer at the now half-conscious servant slung over Merlin’s shoulder. 

“No, that’s okay, I can take him over to Gaius on my own.” 

Colton let out a delusional whine, “But _mum,_ I hardly ever get to run around town in my undergarments the way Sis does. ” 

The four knights burst out laughing, and Merlin was only barely able to restrain his mirth into chuckles. “And I thought I was overworked.”

  
  
  


No matter how hard her feet hit the ground, or how loud her own heartbeat rang in her ears, she could still hear the hoofbeats behind her. Relentlessly pursuing her. Unceasing. And so she ran further, faster, rich brown hair that usually sat calmly at her back now flying aggressively, tumultuously behind her as she followed only a few steps behind her two companions.

Liliana only wished she could have helped more of the girls escape. 

The slender arm of the oldest woman among the trio, though she could only be two or three years older than Ana herself, reached out and pulled both of them backwards. The three of them huddled behind the trunk of a particularly thick tree. As Ana caught her breath, the hazel eyes of the eldest scanned the nearby area. 

“Evelyn? What do you see?”

“Nothing, Leigh, which for now is good.” She replied to the third and youngest girl, though again not younger by much, her eyes remaining focused on the scenery as she spoke. “If only we could find a clothing line, to find clothes to disguise ourselves with… But I’m afraid I don’t know this area, nor where the nearest village would be.”

“It should be that way,” Ana heard herself say, pointing in a direction diagonal to the path they had been running. 

“How do you know?”

She took no offense to the question. “Those flowers there in the distance,” she pointed to a small grouping of tall, thin stalks of purple flowers “are purple foxgloves. I think they spread and grew past from where someone must be cultivating them, as they’re not usually native to this area. That means at least one person must be living nearby.”

Though the other two women shot her something of an incredulous look, the distant sound of hoofbeats propelled them forwards, Ana now leading them through the path of the growing flowers. Soon enough they came upon a small village centered around a large field of budding plants, and with it a seemingly abandoned house to sneak near.

“Follow my lead,” Evelyn said. “If we dress ourselves as men those bandits won’t be able to recognize us. I know their kind— if we stay as women they’ll hunt us down, so we must disguise and hide ourselves until they’ve forgotten.” 

Taking down clothes hanging off the line, they each took turns methodically ripping the fabric into strips and wrapping the fabric around their chests to compress them. Leigh, a plump girl with light brown eyes and richly dark skin shrugged on clothing large enough to hide her natural curves, and tucked her rich black curls of hair, hanging just below her neck, behind her ears. 

Evelyn, the tall blonde with a bodacious figure, had to stuff some of the other clothes on the line underneath her loose shirt to make her stomach seem farther out to render her protruding chest less noticeable, securing it in place with a belt. She tied and tucked her long pale hair into a knot. 

Ana found that her short, scrawny body came in handy in this particular situation, as it was easier to disguise herself as a young boy than she cared to admit. With nearby rope she tied the trousers around her waist, securing that they wouldn’t fall off, and did the same as Evelyn in tying her hair back. Ana’s sleeves hung off her bony arms almost comically as the women turned to face each other, and showed off their work. 

“That was a good call with the flowers, Liliana” Evelyn noted. “Otherwise we would have been running in the wrong direction for hours.”

“Please, call me Ana.”

Distant, but ever-closer growing hoofbeats brought them back to their situation once more, and Leigh led them away from the village and to a small stream. They added more mud and dirt to their faces, in a further attempt to disguise their identities, then looked off to the distance, where the top of a castle’s tower could just be seen. 

“I know where we can hide,” Leigh said.

  
  
  


“Sir Gwaine! Just the man I wanted to see.” Percival watched as Arthur emphasized his words as he came upon the four knights with a poignantly strong slap around the addressed man’s shoulder, smiling without humor. “If you’ll follow me to the throne room, you’ll find some of our new hired staff have arrived, ordered per request especially by yours truly.” 

Algernon, the noble who had recently been quite involved with Camelot's affairs, and who had already been walking beside the king, huffed silently, clearly being annoyed with the whole ordeal yet again. Merlin gave a half-smiling look to the group behind the king’s back, almost as if to apologize. 

As they walked into the room, they indeed passed a small group of strangers. When Percival stood with the other knights beside the throne, he could see them well— or at least, as well as their current state of dirt-stained appearances would allow. 

“If we could get on with this? Some of us, like you and I, milord, have more urgent matters to attend to,” Algernon said impatiently, on the other side of the throne. 

Arthur sat down and nodded. “Please, introduce yourselves.”

The tallest of the three spoke first, giving a small, polite bow. “Milord, I am Elton. He next to me,” he indicated to the one with black hair, “is Haylan, and on this side,” he indicated to the shortest, “is Liam. We are honored to be under your service.”

“Excellent,” Arthur said, in the usual lackluster tone he held when dealing with small matters that showed he was putting forth effort, but that his time was limited and could be used more efficiently. “These three men will be serving from here on out as your personal servants, so call upon them if you need anything. My own manservant will, because of years of experience as opposed to the skills he doesn’t possess, be showing them around and guiding them in their duties until they are settled. Let’s see... ” Arthur almost lazily pointed away. 

“Elton, you will be serving Sir Gwaine. Haylan, sir Leon, and Liam with Sir Percival. Is this matter settled?” A few noises of approval had him standing again. “Good, now let’s get back to our busy daily activities. Ah-” he stopped Gwaine from moving with a raising of his hand. “Since you so kindly brought this matter to my attention, perhaps you should accompany Merlin in showing these three men around? You could even accompany them with their first task, scrubbing the floors of the kitchen.” 

Arthur gave a nod, declaring his somewhat annoyed statement an order and cutting off any protests Gwaine had, and walked out of the room. Algernon scoffed at the servants as he passed them and briskly followed suit. Percival walked forward with the others and took the chance to study who was to be his manservant— though honestly, he looked more like a boy than a man. He was surprisingly gaunt, with deeply colored brown hair and freckles resting over olive skin, indicating clearly, Percival distantly observed, a lot of time spent in the sun. A striking part of his mud splattered face, however, were large, clear, grey eyes, fixed nervously on him. 

As Leon and Gwaine spoke to the other two men, Percival simply found himself locking eyes with the man in front of him and giving a solid nod, which was timidly returned.

  
  
  


Of course she had been kidnapped from the comforts of the small villages she had always known. Of course she had been thrust into a castle larger and grander than every village she had ever lived in combined. And of course she was assigned to the biggest, burliest, most intimidating person she had ever met, who she had yet to even hear the voice of.

Ana really did not have a track record for good luck.

She was in no way, however, a pessimist, and the countless situations she had faced in her life so far reminded her that she would get through this one just the same. Hopefully she could get back to her farm soon. 

“Oh really?” Evelyn drawled beside her, engrossed in a conversation with the knight she was serving, “is that _all_ that room is used for?”

At least she had some friends with her. 

Having finished their long and winding path to a hallway in the back parts of the castle, the king’s personal manservant, who she recalled had introduced himself as Merlin, cleared his throat almost awkwardly. He indicated to a door, which Leigh pushed open. “These will be your chambers. Usually servants live on their own in the lower part of the town, but those who, er, have circumstances that require them to stay in the castle share a room with others.”

“All the closer to milord,” Evelyn said with an alarmingly flirtatious voice. Gwaine shot her a surprised smile back. 

Merlin’s tone indicated that he very quickly wanted to end the conversation. “Ah, you’ll be sharing with Colton, another servant for the knights. If you need be later, I live with the court physician… But for now, Gwaine and I will be outside. You can take a minute to settle in and then we’ll start with the first duties the king commanded.”

As Merlin quickly shoved Gwaine out of the door, Leigh spun on Evelyn with a furious, flabbergasted whisper. “What are you doing!? Isn’t being so openly coquettish with your lord going to blow our cover as manservants?” 

“I’m just having a bit of fun, it should be fine…” though at the woman’s continued scolding look, she conceded. “Okay, okay, I promise to behave more subdued. Let’s wash our faces a bit and not leave those two waiting, shall we?”

“Isn’t sharing a room with a man going to make it difficult to keep up our appearances?” Liliana also spoke in whispers as she held a worried gaze, though it wasn’t a second after she said that when the door slammed open, causing the three to turn in alarm. A tall, pale, thin boy walked in, or perhaps more accurately, exploded in, exclaimed out a stressed “Hello! Goodbye!” and left just as quickly as he came, muttering to himself, “Must get the broom… must get the broom... must not forget the cheese...”

The two men that had been waiting outside peered in through the now wide open door, with a look as confused as Ana felt. They then gave a shrug and seemed to say ‘this is normal behavior.’

“Somehow, I don’t think that will pose a problem,” Evelyn whispered, before giving a wave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not aware of how many chapters this story will have yet, because although I plan it out, I also want to let it flow a bit naturally? So for now it's a rough estimate that will get more precise as I go along. Special shout out to my home dog Ruby, who was and is basically my editor in all of this. As a quick note, I'm not sure if I need to say this but the quote in my summary is from Disney's Mulan. I don't take credit for it, obviously Not exactly fitting of the time period but fitting of the story itself. I promise not to make these notes so long in the future lol.


	2. Periwinkle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day at Camelot for Merlin meant another day of undeserved verbal lashings. But it was also another day of stealing small bits of Arthur’s food when he wasn’t looking, so all in all, he guessed it worked out for the better in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if anyone else is like me, but I love specifics, so here's some details, and some reminders if the multiple names get confusing:  
> Liliana, "Ana", goes by Liam when disguised, 5'3"  
> Leigh, goes by Haylan when disguised, 5'5"  
> Evelyn, goes by Elton when disguised, 5'8"  
> I'm not going to drag out the "secretly a gurl" trope for too long, don't worry. Also,,, Tom Hopper, and thus Percy, is 6'5",,, asdfadsf.

Another day at Camelot for Merlin meant another day of mind-numbing chores, of running himself ragged, and of undeserved verbal lashings. But it was also another day of being around his friends, the closest friends he had ever had, of making sure Camelot’s fate remained safe, and of stealing small bits of Arthur’s food when he wasn’t looking. All in all, he guessed it worked out for the better in the end. 

That didn’t keep him from at times feeling crabby, though. 

As he sped down through the town’s streets and into the castle’s hallways with his hands full of rolls of parchment, that the noblemen who so impolitely ordered them had forgotten to restock, but just _had_ to have immediately, Merlin couldn’t help but start off his morning feeling slightly annoyed. 

Then again, if he was a master at one trade it was not letting small annoyances ruin his entire day, because god knows just how used to putting up with these small annoyances he was. 

His trail of thoughts broke away as he noticed a door just further down the hallway open, and one of the new hired help, Liam, began rushing down the hallway carrying a pile of solid wax. After a few moments of jogging Merlin caught up to him, and offered a friendly smile. “I see the morning rush doesn’t only apply to me?”

Liam seemed to hesitate, but then a small, conspiratory smile broke out over his face, and lowered his somewhat high voice into a whisper, as if someone might overhear. “Yes, it seems that when someone of high standing wants something they take the ‘now or never’ saying to heart.”

Merlin laughed. “Though they never accept the ‘never’ part, do they?”

“Never,” Liam replied, smile widening. 

For a bit they walked through the castle’s corridors in comfortable silence, and Merlin could already feel the tenseness of the morning melting away. He cast his gaze down at the other, who was staring straight ahead, and couldn’t help but wonder about his sudden adjustment to castle life. He had heard, from the other two who had arrived, that Liam had been moved from a small farm life, and Merlin immediately felt empathetic. 

“How have your first two weeks been?” 

Liam seemed surprised to be asked, but after a pause a polite smile rested on his lips again. “Good. It’s all very new to me, I’m afraid, but having my friends beside me, as well as serving an understanding lord, have kept it from being difficult.”

“I’m jealous.”

“Oh yes,” Liam looked up at him with his wide, grey eyes, and nodded with wonder, lowering his voice again. “I have heard horror stories from some of the other servants and maids… of how, shall we say, difficult some lords and ladies can be.”

“It’s true we aren’t always treated with respect.” A wry smile tugged at one edge of his mouth. “I can tell you that from experience.”

Liam giggled, truly giggled— again with that conspiratory air, as if their discussion was some forbidden fruit. “But being able to serve this great kingdom’s leader must be an honor?”

Merlin only rolled his eyes dramatically in response, earning another laugh. He was glad the boy seemed to be another friendly face in the castle. He would never take one of those for granted.

“Speaking of my friends, however,” Liam added, “I have to say, for someone who I supposedly share a room with, I don’t think I have held one full sentence with Colton.”

“Oh yes,” Merlin replied with a sagely nod. “He’s always been like that. Even now, when he’s only just recently recovered from a hefty blow to the head.”

At this Liam looked at him in worry and horror, but they had already reached the doors of the meeting room. Merlin knocked and requested entrance, and once the diplomats inside so politely grunted their permittance, he stepped towards the table. “Your scrolls, milord.” 

“Just place them there,” Lord Algernon said with an annoyed flurry of his hand, not even looking up from the paper he was studying next to Leon. “Where is the damn boy I sent for with the wax?” 

“H-here milord!” Liam called out, just finally stepping through the doors and quickly holding out the sticks of wax. “I apologize for my late-” 

“Damn you!” When the man finally turned his stern gaze on the brunette, the lips under his ink black mustache turned into a sharp sneer. “You bring me grey wax?!” He shot out and grabbed the boy’s arm, twisting it and causing all the sticks to clatter to the floor. “Are you trying to make a fool of me, boy?”

A few of the others in the room flinched forwards, but the scene of a nobleman harassing a servant, however unpleasant, was not a rare one, nor frowned upon enough to put a stop to. That didn’t make Merlin any less irritated at the behavior. 

“It is an easily fixable mistake, sire.” Leon interjected. 

“I- I’m afraid there were no more red ones in storage…” Liam tried to defend, despite his winces of pain.

“No more red ones!?” Algernon exploded, twisting the arm further in his vice grip. “No more red wax sticks, in the castle of Camelot? Are you not aware, you insolent boy, that our very colors are red? Or are you so oblivious that even that has eluded you? Has the very idea of purchasing materials at a market escaped you!?” 

“That’s enough, sire.” Percival cut in, in a deep voice.

Gwaine, making much less attempt to hide his anger than anyone else in the room, stepped threateningly close to the noble’s face. “Leave the boy alone, Algernon. He did nothing wrong.”

With a ‘humph’ Algernon threw Liam’s arm away, leaving the boy to land roughly on the floor. Merlin immediately kneeled at his side, supporting his arms around the other’s back. Looking worriedly into his eyes, he quietly asked. “Are you alright?”

Liam rubbed his injured wrist with his other hand, but nodded, gaze cast to the floor. 

“If you are going to cause a disturbance,” Algernon stated imperiously, from his position hunched over the table once more, “please leave the chambers to those of us who are trying to work.”

Merlin couldn’t help shooting an angry glare, but quickly returned his focus. “Let’s get you to Gaius.” As he helped him stand, he couldn’t tell if Liam was actually listening, or was simply so dazed that his nodding along was purely done out of instinct.

  
  
  


“I just can’t believe the nerve of some people! You should have seen him, Gaius, he was positively terrible! He was so coarse ! Like an entitled… an entitled baby! ” 

As Gaius wrapped a bandage around her wrist, Ana watched Merlin pace the floor of the infirmary. She couldn’t help but stare at just how many _things_ were in the room, how filled to the brim it was, and yet how the cork of every vial and the leaf of every herb seemed to be equally useful and important. 

She also couldn’t help but be amused, and, if she were to be honest, touched, at Merlin’s righteous anger. He had seemed so mild-mannered to her, but she assumed that was a well trained front for those he served under. She found it rather endearing that he felt so on her behalf. 

“As correct as I am sure you are, Merlin,” Gaius said in his ever calm voice. “It’s not like this is unheard of. Or like violence hasn’t been brought upon you as well.”

“It really wasn’t much,” she assured them. “I was only surprised. It was my own fault for being careless in my task.” Honestly, she wouldn’t have even had it looked after in the first place, had it not been for already having wanted to speak with the court physician. 

“No, however common, Merlin is still right. I’m afraid to say many are lacking in respect and decency these days.”

“You can say that again.” Merlin muttered, before finally stopping his pacing and looking back at Ana. The genuine concern in his gaze again touched her, and left a small smile on her lips. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

“I promise I’m fine. Thank you for your help.” She turned to Gaius. “And for yours as well.” She held up her now bandaged wrist infront of her eyes. “I’m sure it will be normal in no time.”

“That it will, young man.” Gaius said with a smile. “If that is all, you may go. But try not to put too much strain on it for the next few days.”

“Actually,” she added somewhat nervously, now standing. “Could I ask you for… a piece of medical advice?” 

“Yes, of course.” He answered almost automatically. However, after waiting a patient moment with no response from her, he seemed to take in her furrowed brow. “Oh, yes. Merlin,” he asked, “Could you please go to the town and find me the supplies that are on that list there? I’d like to have the seasonal ingredients in storage before they come to an end.”

Merlin for a moment looked unwilling to leave, but after a skeptical glance at Gaius he gave a nod. “Feel better, Liam,” he directed at her with sincerity, before stepping out.

Gaius looked after the closed door for a few seconds before turning to face her. “Now,” he said, and not unkindly, “what was it you wanted to ask?” 

She couldn’t help but thread her fingers together nervously. It was dangerous, explaining her situation, but it had to be done. “I was wondering if… that is, if I were to find you the supplies, if you could make a certain draft of a potion for me?”

Gaius looked at her curiously, but didn’t say no. “If it is within my level of skill, certainly. What does it require?”

Ana listed off the ingredients she had committed to memory so long ago— over twelve years ago, to be exact. It was funny how that day felt as near to her as it felt distant. She tried to ignore the nervous knot in the pit of her stomach as Gaius jotted down the list, looking more and more skeptical as she went along. She had been sure she wouldn’t have been able to hide it from someone that had been mixing medicine for so long, but still she had hoped it would go unnoticed. 

“Yes, well… while I am afraid these ingredients may run out soon, I should have enough to make at least a couple doses to begin with.” 

She let out a grateful sigh. “Thank you, thank you so much. As soon as they start running low, I’ll go and purchase more ingredients myself.”

Gaius gave a nod, and though he seemed about to let the subject go, he ended up continuing. “Liam, I don’t mean to be intrusive, however, you must know why I need to ask you about the specifics.”

She worried at her bottom lip. “Yes, I do.”

“It’s actually a surprising and novel way to go about it, but nevertheless… it is a magic suppressing potion, isn’t it?”

Her gaze fell to the ground as she sat on a nearby wooden bench. “I suppose there’s no point in hiding it from you.”

“I suppose there isn’t.” And again his tone was not unkind. He sat next to her and spoke reassuringly. “I can promise you, you can confide in me. I have, shall we say, dealt with situations of… sensitive matters in the past, and I find time after time it is always better to have someone to trust in than to go at it alone.”

She thought it over for a moment, and then continued with a small nod. “I think you’re right.” She looked up at him. “It isn’t for me, but my brother. My half-brother, to be exact. He was born with the magic of his mother, and he has always been rather…” She searched for the right word. “Destructive. Volatile, even. He has good intentions, and we’re not sure if it is the magic that causes this behavior or simply his nature, but nevertheless it is there. Since he was young the combination of magic and behavior have gotten him into trouble, and so the chief doctor of our town, who was a friend to our family and the brother of his mother, came up with this potion. It doesn’t entirely stop his abilities, but it helps soothe them, if he takes it regularly.”

“Where is your brother now?”

“Under the care of my aunt. I left him with a supply of the medicine, but I worry it will soon run out.” She looked at the elderly man guiltily. “I’m sorry to have placed this burden on you, but you’re the only one I can turn to.”

Seeming satisfied, Gaius stood and walked to his table of medicine, beginning to organize things. “On the contrary, I am happy to help. I only wanted to make sure you weren’t requesting this for malicious purposes… but I believe your sincerity.”

The kindness of his words only made her feel more guilty for having to disguise herself as a man, but as far as the matter of her younger brother went, she could take solace in the fact that she was being entirely honest.

“The first drought should be ready for you in two days. How often does he have to take it?”

“Once every two weeks.”

“I’ll make sure to make it with ample time for you to send it to him, and to let you know when I need to restock on the ingredients.”

“You can make it?”

“If I’m being entirely honest,” he said, “I haven’t made one of this kind before— but don’t worry. They didn’t make me court physician for nothing.” He gave her something of a teasing smile. “It should be quite fine.”

“Thank you, Gaius. Truly, thank you so much. Let me know if there is anything I can do to repay you.”

He gave a laugh. “Oh, please, there is no need of anything of the sort.”

She glanced out the window, and gave a start at the position of the sun. “Oh! I must be going, I have to tend to my duties. Thank you again!” 

“ Of course. Remember, Liam, you can feel free to be honest with me about anything.”

There was a certain level of gravity to his words, and as she gave a bow of her head and stepped out the door, Liliana couldn’t help but wonder if Gaius suspected more truth of her identity than he led on.

  
  
  


“My apologies, milord!” Liam bowed as he came in through the doors, and quickly took over putting on the finishing touches of his armor. “I simply can’t seem to be on time today…” Liam mumbled a self-deprecating addition, and Percival wondered if he had been able to hear it simply because he was naturally a quiet person himself. 

“It’s no problem.” Percival glanced over at him, and noticed his wrist. “Is it feeling better?”

For a moment the boy simply looked puzzled, until he followed his gaze. “Oh! Yes, thank you, it really was nothing. Gaius said it shouldn’t take longer than a few days to heal, and then I’ll be able to serve you again at my full capacity.”

“That’s not why I ask.”

“Milord?”

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

He seemed genuinely shocked at the honest statement, though Percival couldn’t understand why. He did, however, chuckle when the other’s face flushed a bright pink. 

“Th-thank you, milord.”

Percival gave a nod, and grabbed his sword from Liam’s hands before moving to leave the room. 

“Oh, milord!” 

Percival stopped just at the doorway, and turned.

The brunet hesitated, but continued. “If you need anything… I’ll be here.”

He simply answered with another nod, though this time a small smile accompanied it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Percival fic, but expect to see a considerable amount of Gwaine, because I love him. A lot. Cries.


	3. Snapdragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I didn’t know you were such a skilled fighter,” Gwaine said, with a certain air in his voice that Evelyn found herself quite enjoying. 
> 
> “There are a fair amount of things you don’t know about me, milord.”

Despite the rough beginning of her week, Ana now found herself smiling as she walked down the corridor, her two friends chatting to each other on either side of her. Perhaps it was the relative calm of the morning, or the sweetness of her company, but she was in high spirits. 

“All that I suggest is,” Evelyn was saying, in her particularly persuasive tone, “if you let me brush down your hair once, you may find that you like it.”

“And all that I answer is,” Leigh shot back, the teasing hint in her voice giving away the friendly truth behind her stern, stubborn expression, “if you come near me with any form of a comb or brush I will snap it in half and dispose of it through the window.”

“What do you think, Ana?” The platinum blonde peered down at her, lowering her voice so as to not let anyone in the castle overhear the rather incriminatingly feminine nature of their conversation. “Please help me convince our friend that she is being unreasonable.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think she’s allowed to decide what is and isn’t done to her own hair.” The darker skinned girl gave a triumphant show of her tongue to Evelyn, who simply rolled her eyes. “But I must say, I’m a bit jealous of you both.” She tucked a stray strand in front of her eyes behind her face, and secured it into her hidden bun, unable to suppress a sigh. “Your hair has such… volume, and movement, and shape, while mine feels so…”

“Flat?” Evelyn finished for her.

“Plain?” Leigh suggested.

“Lackluster? Perhaps boring?”

Ana let out an annoyed breath, followed by a pout. “I was going to say simple, but thank you. I didn’t really need an ego anyway.”

“Oh come,” Liegh said, putting a gentle, round arm around her side and pulling her affectionately close. “You know we only say it in jest.”

“I happen to think that honest, straightforward look of yours is what adds to your charm.” Evelyn furthered her statement by adding her own arm around Ana’s shoulders. 

Once they saw the fond smile return on her lips, the one that Ana simply couldn’t hold off, the trio went back to walking calmly, and unsuspiciously.

“Are you coming with us to the kitchens?”

“No,” Ana responded. “I want to go send off this letter for my brother before my next set of duties. I’ll come join you in the afternoon when we go into town to restock on armor polish.”

With a friendly farewell they parted ways, and the brunette continued down another set of hallways. She was happy to find that she was now able to navigate them on her own without getting lost— most of the time, at least. She was about to make a turn when a pair of hairy arms shot out from the shadows of a doorway and pushed her against it next to them, a calloused hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming— which she definitely was trying to.

“Shh!!” called the person next to her. Her heart beat remained wildly irregular even after she recognized her ‘kidnapper’ as Sir Gwaine. She moved her incredulous look from him to infront of her, where another pair were hiding in the doorway directly across from them, and she was further surprised to find one of the people to be none other than Sir Percival. Next to him, Merlin gave her a silent shrug. 

Once he was convinced that she wouldn’t start yelling Gwaine released her, holding a desperate finger to his lips to convey to her that they had to remain quiet. He signaled towards the corner of the hallway she had attempted to walk through, and conspicuously turned his head around. Percival and Merlin did the same. In her curiosity she couldn’t help doing following along, peeking her head under where Gwaine’s was. 

For a minute she couldn’t understand why they were hiding. The scene was simple enough: the corridor to the left of where they stood had a maid hunched over, dipping her rag in a pail of water as she cleaned the floor. To the right, Sir Leon read a letter in front of him as he walked, his free hand holding an apple for him to bite into. He was so distracted, however, that he didn’t notice when Percival tactfully threw a fruit peel just at his feet. Ana watched in horror with delayed understanding as Leon’s foot slid on the peel, sending him skidding forward and landing head first into a bucket of dirty water. 

Gwaine immediately erupted into boisterous, muffled laughter beside her, pressing an arm to his face and hunching over in an attempt to remain quiet. Across from her Percival was in a similar state, and Merlin was trying hard not to cry.

She knew it was so, so wrong, but Ana too found herself needing to bite into her hand to stifle the urge to laugh. The scowl on Leon’s lips was completely cancelled out by the site of his brown-ginger hair sitting soppily against his forehead, streams of water running over his face. “Gwaine! Percival!” he yelled down the corridor. 

“That’s our cue,” Gwaine whispered, giving Ana a wink before sprinting down the corridor and around the corner, Percival following suit. 

She and Merlin took a step towards each other, back into the light, just as Leon stomped around and stood in front of them. “Good morning— have either of you two seen my fellow knights this morning? I would like to present them as a gift to the nearest Chimera.” The wry half-smile on his lips indicated he was only half-kidding.

“No, I can’t say I have,” Merlin said, with a horrible attempt to contain his mirth.

Leon turned his gaze on Ana, and she was doing an even worse job at keeping a straight face, so she simply shook her head in agreement. 

Leon gave a long-suffering sigh, but the smile on his lips turned just slightly fond. “Neither of you could keep a secret to save your life.”

 _If only you knew,_ she thought to herself, but kept quiet.

“Well, if you do see them, and I know it’s them two, since Elyan is out in the town, you should advise them to stay away from their knightly duties— I have a feeling training will be much rougher for the next few weeks.” With a friendly and somewhat suave salute he walked off, dripping and all, and only then did Merlin and Ana allow themselves to burst into fits of laughter. 

Once it had subsided to occasional chuckles she turned to Merlin, who was brushing a tear from the corner of his eye. “I didn’t know Sir Percival participated in practical jokes.”

“Oh yes,” he responded. “You’d be surprised at the traits Gwaine can pull out of people.” She gave a snort. “But don’t believe Leon’s serious facade. I fear for the prank he’s going to pull on them as revenge.”

They laughed again but were cut short by an impatient cry further down the hall. “Merlin!” The king of camelot stormed towards them, and Liliana gave a hasty bow (she had to make a conscious effort not to curtsy instead). “Good morning, Liam.” Arthur said calmly, almost absently, before turning a scrutinous gaze on his personal servant. “Merlin, clearly if you have the time to be slacking off, you have the time to be doing, oh I don’t know, just about anything remotely useful? Like checking my incoming letters, which I asked you to do two hours ago?”

“Yes, sire.” Merlin responded blandly, like a child receiving an umpteenth scolding.

“Oh, I’ll accompany you, I have something to send myself.” At Arthur’s inquisitively arched eyebrow Ana flushed, and hastily added “of course, if that’s alright with you, your highness. I’ve done my duties for the morning, but I’ll get a head start on my afternoon ones as soon as I do this task.”

“Very well.” The king, satisfied, gave a crisp nod before walking away. He called back down the hallway, however, “While you’re at it, see if you can give my dunce of a servant half of your diligence.”

The pair silently chuckled again.

  
  
  


As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, the trio of girls, though they currently weren’t revealing themselves as such, made their way through the streets of Camelot towards the castle. Evelyn’s naturally confident strides didn’t falter, even as her peripheral vision saw rather suspicious activity taking place in an alleyway up ahead.

“That would be lovely!” Leigh was chirping, though in all honesty the blonde hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation for the past few minutes. 

“Yes, I think so.” Ana responded happily, arms full of groceries. As her hazel gaze focused more on the shadows of the buildings, Evelyn decided something definitely was off. They rounded a corner and went from open road into a dark, obscured path, and she felt the hairs on her neck rise.

Instincts ringing Evelyn shot an arm out and halted the steps of both of her companions, just before a group of hooded figures came at them with blades. She could sense her friends taking a step backwards, Leigh moving to stand nervously behind the blonde. 

“Ohoho,” one of the hooded men called out, in a voice that could only be described as grimy. “Three defenseless young men? Maybe you should just give us ‘yer money quickly so things don’t hav’ta get ugly.”

“And if we don’t?” She responded, in an unphased tone. Her friends tensed behind her, but she kept her expression easily neutral. 

“Then I can’t say I didn’t warn ‘ya. Just make it easy for everyone."

“Kiss my ass,” she couldn’t keep herself from firing.

The man growled. “That's how it is? Get ‘em, boys.”

The silent men came at them at once, smirks shining maliciously. In a quick motion Evelyn was ducking under one and kicking her leg out to sweep away another, using the forward falling momentum of the first to flip him over her shoulder. He landed with a thud next to her companions, where Liliana was attempting to shield Leigh. 

Evelyn swore under her breath as she was too busy fending off the now three men coming at her to defend her friends. As she maneuvered past a man and left a singing blow to his head with her elbow she saw Ana swing her heavy shopping basket, knocking one of the thugs unconscious. This gave Leigh time to run out towards the open street and call for help. The one that had spoken earlier scowled in discontent and walk closer towards Ana. 

Wanting to get towards the other girl Evelyn more quickly landed a successive three punches on one of her attackers, barely giving the mediocre men attention as she watched Ana back away, attempting to fend off the threat. However the brunette’s foot caught in an uneven hole in the ground, sending her tumbling to the floor with an unpleasant sounding thud. 

“No!” The blonde growled out in annoyance, stealing the knife from one of her opponents and readying herself to use it when bright trails of red fabric came into her field of vision, three knights now appearing on the scene. 

The battle was thus finished quickly, and as Gwaine and Percival tied up the men that were writhing on the ground, Elyan glanced over at her. 

“Are you alright?”

Evelyn gave an easy nod, swatting off the dirt on her pants. “Yes, just fine.”

Leigh quickly came forward, ducking next to Ana, who was still on the ground rubbing at her foot. “Oh, I’m so sorry I couldn’t be of more help. I’m lucky that I stumbled across these three on their way into the town, though.” 

“It’s fine,” Ana said, in her soft voice that never stopped to amaze Evelyn with it’s simple kindness. “You did what you could— that’s the important part. And, your actions ended up saving the day. Thank you,” she turned to face Evelyn, “and you.” The world in which Evelyn was raised didn’t take kindly to such honesty, and so she found it an even more admirable trait in her friends. 

“Can you stand?” Elyan offered her a hand.

“I should be fi- ah!” Ana’s assurance was cut off with a wince of pain as she put too much pressure on her injured ankle, leaving to her needing to lean on the knight for more support. 

Evelyn was about to offer help when Percival stepped forward. “Here, allow me.” Hooking an arm around her knees and another around her torso he picked the brunette up with extreme ease, and looked over calmly at the rest of them. “You can finish here and bring them to the castle for questioning. I’ll bring him,” indicating to the person sitting with no small amount of embarrassment in his arms, “over to Gaius.”

They all gave a nod as he walked away, and Evelyn crouched towards the roped, semi-conscious thugs. She looked up to find Gwaine giving her an impressed smile, which she simply returned with a small shrug. 

“I didn’t know you were such a skilled fighter,” he said, with a certain air in his voice that she quite enjoyed.

“There are a fair amount of things you don’t know about me, milord.”

  
  
  


“What is it, milord?”

The man he was carrying seemed to sense that he had something to say, but for a moment Percival didn’t respond to this curious tone. After a moment, however, he gave a low chuckle.

“Wh-what is it?” Liam asked with more persistence, and Percival flickered his gaze down to notice a bashful blush creeping up the other’s neck. 

“You really don’t weigh anything, do you?” He couldn’t help himself. The knight was used to being the one to carry his comrades when they were injured beyond the ability to walk, but this one weighed an almost ridiculous amount lighter. He meant nothing negative of it, though, as he climbed up the steps towards the physician’s chambers, only unable to hide back his curiosity.

He looked down again to find Liam blushing a brighter scarlet, his grey eyes avoiding Percy, though seeming to take no offense. “I’ve been told that I don’t.” They continued in silence for a moment, when he spoke again guiltily. “I’m sorry you have to do this.”

“It’s no problem,” he said sincerely, as they reached the door. He was about to ask if Liam could open the door, as his own hands were clearly full, but was surprised when the brunet seemed to read his mind, opening it casually without needing to be asked at all.

A few minutes later and Percival was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his, watching silently as Gaius rubbed a poultice onto the boy’s ankle. It had swelled into an angry shade of red, and Liam winced lightly. 

“I hate to scold you,” the physician was saying “but this is the second time you have had to come here with an injury in under a week.”

“I apologize,” Liam responded guiltily.

Gaius gave a sigh as he started wrapping it with a bandage. “There is no need to apologize— simply try to be more careful. It may be my job to tend after injuries, but it still gives me no joy to see someone hurt.”

“Thank you,” the brunet responded, with the utmost sincerity. 

Gaius finished and gave a small, tired smiled. “Keep off of it for about two days and it should be back to normal.”

He nodded, and to Percival’s surprise then turned his apologetic look on him. “I’m sorry, milord.”

“For what?”

“My carelessness yet again put a hindrance on my ability to perform my duties to you. It’s my fault.” Strands of his rich brown hair fell as he bowed his head.

He gave Liam a shake of his head, a curious smile ghosting over Percival’s lips as he wondered how it was possible for one person to take on every amount of blame. “It’s not your fault at all. Just focus on getting better.”

“Yes, milord,” he responded, seeming touched, somehow. Gaius chuckled softly to himself, pretending to be focused on arranging some vials.

"Perhaps," the elder suggested, "Liam, you would like me to check your vitals while I'm at it? Make sure everything is okay?"

"N-no!" 

Liam's rather ferverent outburst surprised the two of them.

"That is- there's no need to waste your time. I can assure you I feel perfectly fine."

Just then the doors swung open, Haylan and Elton entering. As the former rushed forward and asked worriedly after his friend’s condition, the latter stepped towards Percival. 

“Thank you for your help, sire. We can escort him to our chambers from here.”

Percival gave a nod in response. He moved towards the door, but as he was closing it he couldn’t help a glance over his shoulder. For a moment the two of them made eye contact, and Liam shot him a grateful smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, I promise this whole disguise thing will only last about two more chapters. Sorry, I've been fleshing out my plans more and making the chapters shorter in length than I originally intended, but I hope you like it! Also, if you notice, each chapter is titled after a flower who symbolizes something that has to do with the chapter's theme.


	4. Winged Seeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She blinked in surprise, turning to flash a small, self-deprecating smile to Gaius. “You’re right. I simply can’t help it. I’m afraid my brother is right in saying I am a natural worry-wart.”

It was a sunny day, and she was glad to be indoors. Leigh of course saw the beauty in bright blue skies and the chirping of birds, but in all honesty she had never been one to be able to withstand the heat. On this day, however, while the outsides were hot, the inside of the weapons room was a pleasant cool. She smiled to herself as she finished tying the back of Sir Leon’s training armor, then— as she was the only servant there, her two friends busy dealing with another aspect of the castle— moved on to tie Sir Elyan’s. 

She was humming to herself, enjoying the atmosphere of, but not listening to, the friendly chatter amongst the knights in the room, when Merlin, looking anxious, walked through the door. 

“Oh no,” Arthur groaned, rather unceremoniously, before Merlin even had a chance to speak.

“What is it?” Gwaine asked, one eyebrow raised.

“He’s got that look on his face. He’s going to tell me bad news, and I’m highly considering grabbing that battle axe and running so I don’t have to hear it.” 

“That wouldn’t be very king-like of you, now would it?”

The blonde gave a histrionic roll of his eyes, and Leigh had to stifle her giggles. 

“Well, out with it,” Arthur commanded, rather impatiently. “I was right wasn’t I? It’s bad news.”

“It isn’t… _bad_ news, per se, milord,” Merlin finally said, the nervousness not leaving his voice. “It’s just… not good news either. It’s not really any news.” At the king’s further impatient look, he went on. “It’s your mail. You’ve received another one of those messages.” 

Arthur groaned yet again, prompting confused look amongst the others in the room. 

“What does he mean?” Percival spoke up.

Arthur sat and dug the heel of his hand into his eyes before continuing. “It’s these strange packages. Someone has suddenly been sending a lucrative amount of flowers to the castle.”

“Flowers?” Elyan asked. 

“Flowers and only flowers, of all different types. No note, no name, no further message. For all I know, the birds are carrying them in, except they are bound by silk ribbons. This has to be, what, the thirteenth bundle?”

Merlin nodded.

“Perhaps they are exceptionally talented birds,” Gwaine suggested with a goofy smirk, easily ignoring the glares in the room.

There was a pause of silence that Leigh broke. “Perhaps, milord, if I may make a suggestion…”

“Go on. What is it?”

“I’m not sure if it would work, but you could ask Liam for his help.” At the confused looks she received, she explained further. “If I’m not mistaken, he worked in a flower field before coming here. And on our way through the forest before coming here, he knew where the nearest town was because of a trail of flowers. Perhaps he could give a different perspective on the matter?”

Arthur seemed to think it over for a moment. 

“It’s true that the court florist didn’t see any connections between the flowers,” Merlin added. “Maybe Liam can see a pattern he couldn’t.”

After another pause the king stood up, seemingly satisfied. “Yes, I suppose it’s better than doing nothing.” He turned to the room and addressed Leigh. “Ask him to meet me in the room where all the packages are being held- Merlin will show you the way. And,” he turned to the knights, “Anyone who doesn’t have morning practice scheduled can feel free to join us with the flowers. those of you who do, continue on with it. Let’s not let this mystery further get in the way of our routine.”

  
  
  


Liliana walked a bit nervously through the door that Merlin held open. They had explained to her the situation on the way, but even she couldn’t help finding it odd. Messages accompanied with flowers were not uncommon— there existed a whole array of things that flowers could convey. But entirely alone, to a large castle, with no name or note? 

She only hoped she could be of some help. 

But no, she reminded herself, trying to build up her confidence, if somebody could figure this out, it was her. She had spent almost the entirety of her roughly 20 years of existence amongst flowers— and when she wasn’t amongst them she was studying them. 

“You called for my help, milord?” She bowed. 

“Yes— I assume you were told of the situation at hand?” She nodded. “Well,” Arthur said, surprisingly casual in his tone, “no one else has been able to figure it out, so you’re our best shot.” He gave a smile that held no humor in it. “No pressure.”

Ana swallowed, but walked closer towards the table where all the bundles of flowers were spread out. She let herself look at them for a moment, and went over the basics. They were all of different types, though most of them seemed to be from this growing season. The ones that weren’t were clearly preserved by an expert. Someone who knew flowers well.

She looked over her shoulder at Merlin. “Are these in the order they were sent?”

The lady Guinevere answered from where she stood. “Yes, I believe so. We started simply laying them out from that end of the table to this one as they came in, so they should be.”

She walked towards the far end of the table, and the nerves that came with all eyes being on her slipped away as she focused on remembering what she knew about these types of flowers. Time? No. Color? No. Symbolization? 

“Of course!” 

“What is it?” Arthur asked, one hand against his chin, his blue eyes puzzled but intense.

“Each species of flower has a certain meaning behind it, or a certain emotion or word it symbolizes. While it varies from kingdom to kingdom, and culture to culture, there is a certain amount of it that has been widely accepted as the language of flowers.” 

“Do you think someone is trying to use them to communicate?” Merlin asked.

“It could be.” She paused in contemplation. “Milord, has there been any strange activity lately?”

Arthur thought it over. “Not nearby, no. There have been outbreaks of groups of small groups of outlaws attempting to seize towns for themselves along the border, lately, but my knights and I should have dealt with all of them in the past month. Why?” 

She delicately held the leaves of the first plant between her fingers. “This one is isn’t a flower but a branch of a pine tree, which is known to have winged seeds. Those are often associated with messengers. The next one,” she looked closely at it, “is a thistle, which is associated with nobility, but also with caution and warnings. After it is a plant of the Nasturtium species, which mean patriotism…”

When she looked up she quickly flushed, everyone in the room giving her looks that varied somewhere on the spectrum between surprised and, to her own surprise, impressed. Despite her embarrassment, she continued, looking at the king in the eye. “I believe that someone is trying to send a word of warning.”

After studying her for a few seconds longer Arthur gave a serious nod, and began ordering people around. Some fetched parchment, some ink, others map of the kingdom of Camelot. More of the knights were called in to report about the schedules of their border patrols, and the rebellious groups of thugs they had defeated. 

Liliana spent the time deciphering the rest of the flowers, putting together what they were accepted to mean, and with the help of Lady Guinevere and the court florist, finding the exact locations towns in which these plants were being grown and distributed. 

“No…” Ana mumbled to herself.

“Have you deciphered it?” Merlin asked her.

“Yes,” she looked up at him, and then towards the king, a furrow in her brow. “If I’m not mistaken, I believe someone is trying to warn us that their village was secretly attacked and the people held hostage. The village of Mensfield.”

She couldn’t help biting her lip. The king glanced towards the court florist, and he nodded solemnly. “I agree with him, sire.” 

“Very well. Merlin, grab the horses and the map. Knights, prepare for battle. We ride immediately.” He strode purposefully towards the door, but paused for a moment just in front of Ana. “I hope you’re right about this.”

  
  
  


A few days passed in relative silence for the castle, and Liliana, if she were being entirely honest with herself, spent the entirety of it worrying. Whether she was right or wrong in her understanding, whether the town was in danger, whether those that went to deal with the issue came out uninjured-

“You know,” the voice of a kind old man cut through her thoughts “it’s not proven by science, but I think if your brow stays in that position for too long it will become permanently stuck.”

She blinked in surprise, turning to flash a small, self-deprecating smile to Gaius. “You’re right. I simply can’t help it. I’m afraid my brother is right in saying I am a natural worry-wart.”

He gave a knowing smile. “I know how you feel. But take it from a fellow ‘worry-wart,’ as your brother puts it, who has seen Merlin go off on countless perilous situations. All you can do is hope for the best.”

She nodded, and they each went about their way. Not more than an hour later Colton came rushing through the door, halting her in her process of cleaning the floors of a knight’s bedroom. “The king urgently requests your presence!” 

She bolted to her feet. “They have returned? But why my presence?”

But he was already out the door, and she hurried to follow.

  
  
  


Arthur had to physically stop himself from pacing. He had to admit that as much as he loved his father, he knew (perhaps better than anyone) Uther’s faults, and thus knew he had gotten his tendency for impatience from him.

That was probably why he had the servant Colton deliver so many of his messages— that boy ran faster than the eye could see. He absently wondered if he could enter him in a race. Soon, however, the doors opened and when Liam walked inside he took a seat at his throne. “Ah, good, you’re here.”

“Yes milord,” he said, bowing at a respectful distance. “I’m glad to see you have returned safely.”

“Yes, as am I,” he couldn’t help replying, with something of a wry smile. The boy gave a short, extremely nervous laugh, and Arthur could barely suppress his own chuckle. He understood from a young age that being the king, especially of a country such as Camelot, intimidated most people, but this young servant seemed to take that to a whole other level. Uther may have seen no problem in this, but Arthur wasn’t one to rule with fear. Still, there was nothing he could do about it at the moment, and it wasn’t such a pressing issue, so all he did was find it mildly amusing. 

“The mission you assisted on was a success. So much so, in fact, that there is someone who insisted on speaking to you personally.” He gave a wave of his hand, and the guards politely escorted a woman through the doors. Her wisps of white hair and various wrinkles gave away her age, but her skin was tanned from her lifestyle of fieldwork, and her eyes full of laugh lines. She stopped just next to Liam, and gave the king a polite nod of her head. 

“My name is Iris,” came out her voice, slightly croaky from age but warm like cinnamon, “and on behalf of all the villagers of Mensfield I wish to thank you, your highness, for everything you did for my us.” 

Arthur gave a sincere, if slightly formal, smile. “It is nothing to be thanked for. It is our duty, as the court of Camelot, to protect its citizens. I only apologize that we did not detect the trouble immediately. That is, for help in finding out about your situation, it is the young man next to you that you might wish to thank.”

Even from the distance he could see Liam’s clear grey eyes widen at his statement, only growing when the old woman turned and gave him a deep bow, pressing one knee to the floor. The servant, clearly flustered, fidgeted.

“Please, please,” he said, probably unaware of his kindness as he automatically ducked down, looping an arm around Iris’ and helping her up (though, Arthur noted with a slight quirk of his lips, the boy’s arms were just as thin as the old woman’s). “There is no need to bow, or thank me. I’m but a servant who loves flowers, and who is simply happy to have been of help.”

The woman studied him, almost scrutinously for a moment. “Could you tell me,” she asked, her voice simply curious, almost testing “what my name means?”

The manservant answered matter-of-factly without even needing to think. “While some consider the Iris to mean good news, its petals are usually thought to symbolize valor, faith, and wisdom.”

“Yes…” the woman’s wrinkles deepened as her face broke out into a warm smile. “I have spent my entire life as a farmer of flowers. And you, my dear, possess a great knowledge of them. I am glad you could understand my message.” Liam flushed pink at her compliment, but said nothing.

“Yes,” Arthur asked, now butting in. “I mean this with no disrespect, but could I ask what that was all about?”

“Why not simply send a letter?” Elyan clarified.

The woman nodded. “I understand it was not the most direct of methods.” Arthur for a moment swore he heard Gwaine scoff in the distance. “But the man in charge of the violence, Blaxton, had our village seized and held us all under threat of death. He wanted to keep his invasion a secret, I believe, so he could quietly take more territory, and so he had all of our correspondence intercepted, and prevented any of us from travelling. All we could do was business as usual, so as not to tip anyone off, and so all I could do was send those flowers under the pretense of business and hope for the best. I apologize again, your highness, for the risk— but my grandson’s life was in danger.”

“You needn’t apologize. You were brave for doing so, and it all worked out for the best.” Arthur now stood, discreetly creaking out the sore joins in his knees, and gave a business-like smile. “Well, if all is settled I will have a knight escort you to the inn you may stay at tonight, before returning to Mensfield. Thank you for travelling all this way.”

As things went back to normal, and people walked out the doors and on their way, Arthur looked over to see Liam still standing in the same place, looking out in the distance where Iris had left, seemingly lost in thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the rather slow beginning, that wasn't on purpose!! asdfasdf. But it'll start picking up soon I promise. I'm a huge romantic so it's gonna have lots of mush and awkwardness and fluff and, of course, angst.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s just, you look at that leg of lamb with more emotion and passion than I’ve ever seen you look at a woman with. That I’ve ever seen you look at anyone or anything with, as a matter of fact.”

He didn’t consider himself materialistic, at all. But even Percival had to admit to himself that going from an orphaned peasant with only his raw strength keeping him alive to a trained knight with dear friends and a home came with multiple advantages, besides the honor of it. One of those was, undoubtedly, the food. 

While he wasn’t as actively rambunctious as some of his fellow knights, he had yet to attend a feast in Camelot that he hadn’t enjoy. This was, of course, in part to the company of those loyal friends of his, who reserved a large spot in his heart. However, another aspect was how damn good the food always was. 

This was another one of those nights. Having returned from their mission to Mensfield safely, and not having had time to properly unwind from all the other expeditions the knights were going on lately, Arthur saw it fit to throw a small banquet. They hadn’t even started serving the food and Percival’s cheeks already hurt from smiling.

Gwaine gave a deep sigh beside him, though it sounded like he had been trying to get his attention for several minutes. He made a point to sigh again, louder.

“Are you trying to blow out the candles?” 

“Oh Percy, Percy, Percy.” With a randomly sympathetic look on his face Gwaine patted him on the back. “What are we going to do with you?”

Percival only arched a single eyebrow at his friend, who went on to continue.

“I was just saying to Leon, though I think you were too lost in thought to hear, that I really am worried about you.”

He continued to stare at the brunet silently.

“It’s just, you look at that leg of lamb with more emotion and passion than I’ve ever seen you look at a woman with. That I’ve ever seen you look at anyone or anything with, as a matter of fact.”

“He’s worried you’re going to die alone,” Leon clarified.

“All alone, with nothing but a horse and a sword.” Gwaine shook his head in pity.

“There are worse deaths,” Elyan said with a shrug. “I mean, he could always die without a horse OR a sword. That would be horrible.”

Percival gave an annoyed scoff. “I’m not going to die alone. Actually, if you keep on talking, I’m going to die right here, next to you lot.”

“Now _that_ is the saddest death,” Elyan said with a laugh, earning playful shoves from those around him.

“But I’m serious!” Gwaine clearly was unwilling to let this go, now giving Percival a rather hefty shove of his own. People were now walking in and out of the dining room as the feast was about to begin, setting the last of the plates down and rearranging the candles. “You may have muscles for days but you have to make more of an effort to attract someone! Like, you know, doing anything other than your knightly duties. Join me into town one night!”

“And wake up naked covered in feathers hanging upside down from a tree outside of a tavern? No thank you.”

“That only happened one time.” 

“Anyway,” Percival gave a shake of his head, “I don’t need that. I’m too busy, and I’m perfectly fine on my own. Why don’t you worry about yourself?”

“That’s exactly what someone who’s going to die alone with only a horse and a sword would say,” Merlin said suddenly popping in with a cheeky grin.

“Eavesdropping is a bad habit, Merlin,” Leon scolded with a wry smile. 

“A terrible one.” Gwaine gave a huge grin, clapping Merlin on the back. “Keep it up.”

An imperious voice cut through their conversation, and Percival was just glad he was no longer the subject of interest. “If you lot,” the king spoke from his spot at the head of the table, Gwen trying to keep a straight face next to him, “would quit your incessant bickering, I would like to actually begin.” 

And after a few toasts and hearty laughs they did, sharing drinks and piling food onto their platters, the noise of joyful conversation taking over the room. It was only when Liam walked up to the table to place an extra platter of potatoes that they quieted down, mostly because Arthur addressed him.

“Ah,” the king rose a hand, indicating towards the servant. “Liam, just the man I wanted to see. Not to repeat myself too much, but you did a fine job with those flower messages the other day. Is it true you are a farmer?”

The brunet, clearly surprised at being addressed, gave a hasty bow of his head. “Thank you. Yes, that is correct, sire. My parents were flower farmers, and when they died I continued their line of work.”

“And why is it you’re working here, then as a servant?” Gwaine asked, with his usual lack of tact. 

Percival watched as Liam seemed to hesitate, but ultimately went on. “My brother wasn’t getting along very well with the rest of the villagers. I hoped a fresh start somewhere new would benefit the both of us. I left him with my Aunt to search for a new place to work, and on the way to the city I met Elton and Haylan.” 

“That was very noble of you, to look after your brother that way,” Guinevere said to him with her kind smile, causing him to blush.

“Oh no, not at all, Your Majesty. It is the least I could do, for family.”

“I have a question for you, then,” Gwaine spoke with his usual easy-going smile on his face. “You know a lot about flowers, right?” Liam nodded. “Then you must have a favorite one.”

The servant’s eyes widened considerably. “I— well—” he fidgeted, and Percival couldn’t help but think that the boy looked like he wished a fire would swallow him up then and there.

“Yes, that’s right,” Elyan said, as if something had just dawned on him. “There is no way you study flowers so much and don’t have a favorite. Which is it?”

Liam continued to stammer out no particular response.

“Well, go on.” Arthur prompted, curious, and it was clear the servant now knew he had no choice but to answer.

“I… Well, that is… My favorite flower would be scorpion grasses— Though they are more commonly known as forget-me-nots.” At the questioning looks of the knights around the table, he continued. “They are these tiny, bright, deep blue flowers that always grow in clusters. I’ll never forget the first time my father took me to a field and I saw them growing as far as the eye could see.” For a moment his grey eyes seemed to go hazy as he touched upon the memory. The ghost of a fond smile spread on Percival’s lips before he even realized.

“Is that why they’re your favorite?” Gwen asked, expression alight with curiosity. “That memory?”

Liam smiled as he continued, shyness leaving him as he spoke eagerly about the flowers. “Oh, no, it’s not just that. My father then explained to me the stories behind them. There are plenty, of course, but my favorite is the one of how they received their name— it is said that in a far away land, a boy and his love were walking through a forest, when they came upon a river. Growing on the riverbed were these beautiful, modest blue flowers. ‘They’re the color of your eyes,’ she said, and seeing how much the girl seemed to be dazzled by them, the boy ran to go pick them. 

“However, try as he might the roots would not come out. When he finally managed to pull them free he had moved too close to the river, and the force of the pull caused him to slip on the muddy ground. As he was falling he flung the flowers to his love, and drowned yelling ‘forget me not!’ The girl wore them in her hair every day for the rest of her life, and never loved another. That is how they got their name, and also their symbolism of remembrance after death and true and undying love.” 

As he stared dreamily off in thought, silence fell over the room. Arthur broke it, with a tone that mixed distaste and mild-horror. “That is a dreadfully morbid tale.”

“It is not!” Guinevere suddenly exclaimed, clearly touched by the story. “I think it is perfectly romantic, and gives it a wonderful name.” Liam, now remembering where he was, and how he had rambled, blushed a furious scarlet. 

“Yeah, Liam, I didn’t know you were such a hopeless romantic.” Gwaine gave a teasing grin, and the boy only blushed brighter.

“You said your father told you that story, correct?” Arthur suddenly had a very concentrated look on his face. Percival had to hold back another amused smile as the boy only nodded aggressively, clearly too embarrassed to speak. “What is your family name?”

“It is… ah… Angrec… son. Milord.”

“Angrecson?” The blonde’s brows pinched in thought. He mumbled to himself, until a dawning light broke across his features. “Yes!” He said with a fist slamming against the table, blue eyes wide with recognition. “I knew I recognized you from somewhere. Did you ever meet your grandfather?”

“N-no milord, but I assure you you must be mistak—”

“Ah pity!” Arthur barrelled on. “No no, I’m sure of it! Your grandfather was a famous warrior, known across the land of Camelot as strong and brave. Why, I heard stories of him as a boy!”

“I’m quite sure that can’t be tru-“

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“Of- of course not, sire, it is simply that-”

“And you said you never met him, correct?”

“Well, yes…”

“So you might not even know it! Your father might not even have known it— legend says he disappeared after an expedition one day to never return.” 

“Oh, yes, I remember that story,” Leon said, his expression equally concentrated, giving a knowing nod. “Isn’t it said that the Angrecson line has only ever produced male heirs?”

“Yes exactly! Why just you standing there as the man you are is proof enough that I must be right.” Arthur’s smile was ear to ear, and Liam looked over to Percival. They made eye contact, the brunet heavily distraught, but Percival could only offer him a minute shrug. He looked to Merlin and received the same response.

“You have the blood of a warrior in you! Why, why don’t we test that out tomorrow? Join us at morning practice.”

“Why I— I couldn’t milord, it isn’t my place, and I wouldn’t know how…”

“Nonsense! If Angrecson blood runs through your veins, you will find the skill comes to you quite naturally. And if not, then the duel is over quickly and no harm is done. Does that sound fair?”

“If you need, I happily volunteer to be the one to duel him,” Gwaine said with a cheery raise of his hand. Liam looked rather terrified, and no small amount of betrayed. 

“It’s settled then. I will see you tomorrow on the field.”

If he had looked earlier like he hoped a fire might swallow him up, Percival thought, his personal servant bowed and left the room looking like he was actively praying for an earthquake.

  
  
  


She took pride in being polite. She may have been raised on the field, but she had been raised with manners. She knew how to bow and curtsey, how to address those of noble standing, despite never having met one until recently, and to not eat with her mouth open or swear in an unladylike manner. However, now, as Ana struggled to find a sword that didn’t look absolutely ridiculous in her annoyingly small hands, under her breath she cursed everything around her. 

“Need some help?”

She let out a rather incriminatingly high-pitched yelp at finding out she was no longer alone, dropping the sword a large sword in the process. It landed so close to Sir Percival’s feet that she could have cut off his toes.

He looked towards the ground with an amused half-smile. “Just ‘no’ would have been fine, you know.”

She scrambled to the ground, somehow in her distress managing to bow and pick up the weapon at the same time. “Forgive me, milord! I was too tense to be aware of my surroundings. It is entirely my fault, I really shouldn’t be trusted with a weapon…” as if to prove her point, in attempting to put the offending object away she nearly lost her grip of it again, the weight of its blade swinging precariously close to the man’s chest.

“Woah, woah,” Percival reached out to steady the hilt, his hand dwarfing over hers. Her cheeks flushed as they stood so close, momentarily in silence, and he gently took her hands out from under his own as he grabbed the sword for himself. “Let’s maybe stick to a smaller one?”

She nodded, and watched as he moved to a shelf in the back, where wooden swords were stored. “Leon and I convinced Arthur to let the match happen with training weapons, since you didn’t seem comfortable with the prospect of a real one.”

Ana let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding. “I must admit that is relieving. Thank you.”

He gave a friendly nod, then went to another shelf. “You’re still going to want armor. Gwaine’s a heavy hitter. Trust me.”

She laughed under her breath as he pulled out chainmail. However she clearly had underestimated its weight, for as soon as the knight placed it in her outstretched hands she went falling to the floor. Percival let out a boisterous laugh, and for a moment she was so stunned she forgot about how sore her chin suddenly felt. She knew that although he was quiet he was still merry and joyful like the other knights, but to see him laugh so openly, so contagiously, made her chuckle herself. 

“It isn’t funny, milord,” she said, though unable to help the smile on her lips.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” and between a few remaining snickers he held out his arm to help her up. When he pulled, Ana went soaring to her feet so suddenly that for a moment she lost her sense of balance. By some small miracle she remained standing on her own two feet— at least this time. “You’re also going to need these,” he said, offering a belt, wrist armor, and gloves. She grabbed them with a grateful smile. “You can put them on yourself?”

“Yes milord,” somehow, despite her previous nerves of that morning, she found a teasing smile pulling at one corner of her lips. “I’ve assisted with your armor enough times to know how, I believe.”

He returned her look. “Oh yeah? Then why is it you still sometimes put things backwards on me?”

“Perhaps it simply looks better that way,” and his faux-scandalized chuckle made her eyes light up with joy. 

Percival moved to go rearrange some of the shelves of weapons, and Ana began fitting the armor on her. It definitely still didn’t fit her correctly, but the smaller size he had found was a better choice than what she had originally chosen, at least. In comfortable silence she tied the belt around her waist to the smallest hole possible, and was just finishing her boots when the knight turned to peer down at her. 

Her eyebrows twitched upwards and a nervous breath fell from her lips as she held her arms out, the chainmail hanging off her frame. Sir Percival shook his head.

“You really are bony, Liam.” He stepped towards her, almost subconsciously, and held his fingers gently around her wrist, holding her arm up and studying it. She felt her cheeks warm. 

_In my own defense, anyone’s muscles would look like skin and bones compared to you,_ she thought. 

As soon as he let go and stepped away the doors flew open, and Evelyn and Leigh walked into room. “I’ll see you on the field, then,” the knight said as he turned and left. 

She gave her friends a distressed look. They worried at her for the entirety of the walk as they made their way towards the field, and all she could do was groan back.

“How could you let this happen?”

“I don’t know…”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know…!”

“Why did you have to use that name, of all names?”

“I don’t know!!”

Leigh gave her a sympathetic frown. “Did you know of the warrior Angrecson?”

“No! Was I supposed to?”

“He’s quite famous,” Evelyn said, with her usual calm tone.

“How was I to know that?” Ana threw her hands up in dismay. “I love this kingdom but I don’t know the warriors of its army by name! Not before I came to serve at this castle, at least! I was raised in a tiny village, surrounded by nothing but cows and fields of flowers. Ask me what type of leaves any flower native to Camelot has, or the ideal weather pattern for them, and I can answer you that!”

“I’m afraid that particular information isn’t going to help you now,” Evelyn answered.

“How did you come to choose that name, then?” The high morning sun let Leigh’s brown eyes shone through as she threw a questioning gaze.

Ana fidgeted for a moment. “I… well, they asked me so suddenly, and I panicked. I should have just told them the truth, that I am of peasant birth and don’t know my family name, if I even have one at all, but somehow I felt I had to answer.”

“But why Angrecson?”

“Well… I… I panicked, and I knew the flower Angrec symbolized royalty, and I’m supposed to be a boy so I chose the suffix ‘son,’ and, well… ”

Her friends gave an exasperated huff just as they stepped onto the fields where about thirty knights waited. Evelyn and Leigh went to stand by Merlin, as the king strode up to her personally.

“Liam! So glad you could make it.”

 _As if I had a choice,_ she thought, rather treasonously to herself. 

He put an arm around her shoulders and led her towards the center of the field, where Sir Gwaine gave a casual wave, as if they were simply about to chat over supper. 

“Sire I… I’m really not sure about this…”

“Nonsense! My knights and I can’t wait to see that family blood in action. Do your grandfather proud.”

He walked back to the sidelines to watch, and Ana turned towards her opponent. He offered a friendly smile, which through her nerves she could barely return. She wondered absently what she had for breakfast that morning, because she was quite certain it would end up on the field now. 

At some voice’s signal, she could no longer identify her surroundings, Ana and Gwaine each lifted their practice swords. With another signal they started.

Gwaine jumped once or twice on his feet, building up his posture, and rearranged the grip on his sword. As he came at her she stood as rigid as a board, only moving when her feet stumbled to catch her as his force pushed against her. It was purely through some form of instinct that she kept her training sword near her face, able to block a few close calls, but not able to stop his strength from continuing to move her backwards.

He gave a side swing that she barely fell forward to miss, and then swung again overhead to try and hit her sword from where she sat on the floor. She scrambled to the side and just barely dodged again. Distantly she had the thought that he was going easy on her, and she was quite grateful.

“Come on Liam!” Some voice cheered on from the crowd. Clearly the story, however false, of a servant boy’s famous lineage had spread around to knights she hadn’t even met yet. 

He hit his sword against hers a few more times, but exhaustion was weakening the strength in her arms. She tried to swing at him once, but the push was far too feeble, which left her broadly open for his strike to connect with her side. Her armor protected her from anything stronger than a mild bruise, but the wind left her lungs and her sword nearly flew out of her fingers. 

Gwaine was just about to disarm her when she saw a rush of blonde, and a tall figure forced the sword out of her hands, pulling it up in front of them in time to block the next strike. 

She stared at Evelyn in open shock. And as Ana checked the rest of the field, noting similar expressions on all the bystanders’ expressions (except for Leigh, who simply pinched at her temples in annoyance and worry), she realized she wasn’t the only one confused at this sudden development.

Gwaine was the first one to recover from the surprise, an amused smile brightening his features. “This is quite a treat!” He called out, fighting off Evelyn’s swings with practiced skill.

“Isn’t it?” She responded with a wry smile. 

The blonde switched which hand dominantly held the wooden hilt and then began swinging again, making Gwaine block and walk backwards with surprising force. He grew more serious as they fought, Evelyn taking advantage of the initial surprise of her attack and keeping him on the defensive. They locked swords, each breathing heavily, and matched strength, for a moment at a standstill until he gave a heavy push and shoved her backwards. 

She rolled with the fall and was standing and twirling again quickly, aiming a blow towards his shoulder. The force of their fight had sent the cloths which she usually had tucked under her belt onto the ground, but she kept going. With both hands she swung at him again and was about to disarm him when, with a somewhat panicked look, he ducked and struck his elbow against her back, the momentum sending her sprawling towards the ground. 

He was about to hold the practice sword to her throat to indicate when he won, when his arm paused in mid-air. Her pale hair had fallen from its secured bun and had fallen in long, wavy tendrils over her shoulders and into the floor. With her disguise now nearly all gone, her shirt fell fully against her heavily-breathing frame, and though it was still a baggy men’s shirt one thing was clear.

“You’re a woman,” Gwaine said, staring into her hazel eyes with a furrow of his brow. 

As every gaze in the field moved from her to Ana and Leigh, the two other women slowly undid their hair, wiped the smears of dirt meant to cover their faces, and undid whatever else had preserved their disguises.

“And so we finally meet,” the blonde said, still from her place leaning against her shoulders on the grass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter so far to get this disguised portion over with. Yayyy I don't have to put up with as many annoying pronouns now. I hate writing scenes that are with all 'he' pronouns, because it's difficult for me to indicate who is who without sounding repetitive. Anyway, sorry this has started rather slow, I just really love the knights and got carried away trying to capture the funny banter of the show.


	6. Purple Lilac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly it dawned on Merlin. “-wait. Gaius. You knew?” 
> 
> “You didn’t?” In all honesty, he hadn’t had any idea. “Oh Merlin, you worry me sometimes.”
> 
> “He worries me too, Gaius.” Gwaine clamped him on the back as he came upon them with the other knights next to him.

Merlin was quite sure that in the years he’s spent in Camelot, if he’s developed one skill more than anything it’s the skill to blend into the background. He felt that way now at the edge of the throne room, as he watched Arthur tap his foot impatiently. He was getting in an argument with his men, but as the conversation made the anger in Merlin grow steadily he felt the urge to no longer stand back.

“With all due respect, sire, I think they should be hanged,” Algernon was saying, his face having turned a peculiar shade of burgundy.

“That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?” Merlin was speaking before he even realized it. 

“Shut up, servant. This is not of your concern.”

“No, Merlin’s right.” Gwaine shot back. Infuriated, the count’s veins only poked out farther. While the new knights of Camelot had proven themselves to be true and loyal more times than anyone could count, Merlin couldn’t help but guess that Algernon was still one of those nobles who believed the men who had been knighted without any noble lineage weren’t meant to be there.

Twat.

“Sire, they have yet to prove to be anything other than faithful, hard-working servants,” Gaius pointed out, more diplomatically than the others.

“It is true that we don’t know the motivation behind their disguises. It could be something justifiable. It could have to do with their families,” Gwen spoke calmly from her place at Arthur’s side, the sympathy clear in her eyes. 

“Milady, an excuse justifiable for lying and cheating their way into honorable positions as workers at this castle?” The count’s raven-black mustache twitched as he fired back, though admittedly more respectful addressing the queen.

“Oh really, _Algy_?” Gwaine drawled out the nickname, sticking his chin forward defensively, probably just to get a rise out of the man. “You definitely didn’t treat them with honor when they were doing their jobs, did you?” 

“Why you—”

“That’s enough.” Arthur interrupted with a sigh. There was a moment of tense silence as the anger in the room stood still and simmered, Arthur rubbing at his temples as he tried to find the best course of action. Merlin could feel himself calm down— the blonde may have his flaws, but he knew him to be a true and just king. He had made the right choices in the path, and Merlin had no doubt he would be fair this time around either. 

“Sire, I believe we should question them, to find out the truth,” Leon spoke up, and at his side Elyan and Percival nodded, arms crossed.

Arthur gave a wave of his hand, then nodded slowly. “It is true that they were deceitful in their entrance here.” Algernon smirked, running a hand through his short, slick head of hair, but he just as quickly scowled again. “However, it wasn’t as if they did anything bad otherwise. Questioning them, and deciding what to do then, is the best course of action.”

“But sire—”

“Enough. I have made my decision. Bring them in,” he signaled towards the guards.

Merlin glanced over and the three women were brought into the room, standing shoulder to shoulder. When they reached where they were meant to stop they each respectfully knelt, heads inclined in a bow towards the king. The guards stepped away, still close enough to intervene if needed.

Looking at them like this, Merlin wondered why he didn’t suspect anything before.

“You stand before the king and counsel of Camelot,” Merlin noted that Arthur used his more ‘kingly’ voice when addressing them. “Tell me now your _real_ names, and your intentions towards this kingdom.”

Each woman spoke in turn.

“I am Leigh, sire.”

“I am Evelyn.”

“And I am Liliana.” Though she had always given Merlin the impression of being the most timid of the bunch, it was she now that continued the explanation. But there was a certain tenseness in her countenance that made Merlin suspect the brunette somehow felt guilty for the whole ordeal concerning the revelation. 

“If I may say, milord, what I said last night at the banquet held no lie to it. I left my brother with my aunt and came towards the capital in search of work— in search of finding a farm nearby that I may have offered my help to. However, on my journey I was kidnapped by a group of traders, and was held with other women of the same fate.” He noticed that the usually tan skin around her lip turned pale as she bit at it, clearly struggling to keep her voice calm. “It was there that I met Evelyn and Leigh, and while we managed an escape I regret to say we could not help the others.”

“What Ana means to say is, it was too short a chance,” Leigh supplied kindly, seeming to notice her friend’s weakening voice. “Had we tried to get more of the women involved, it would have resulted in all of us being caught and punished. While it is regretful, we took the chance we could get.”

“And why, pray tell,” Algernon snided, “did you not simply come to our king with this news in the first place? Why deceive us and sneak in under false pretenses?”

Evelyn, to her credit, remained completely unphased. The count seemed to almost be intimidated by the bland look her hazel eyes turned upon him. “I know those kinds of men— they are relentless in their pursuit. They would have found us if we remained as women. I convinced my companions that the safest course of action was to disguise ourselves as serving boys and bide our time.”

“So you believe he is still out there?” Asked Arthur.

“There is not a doubt in my mind, sire.”

He seemed to think things over for a moment. “And what is it that you plan to do in Camelot now?”

The three girls shared a look, and it was Liliana that spoke up again. “To stay in service to this castle, and this kingdom, milord, if you allow it.”

Though years of protecting Arthur from the shadows had made Merlin something of a suspicious person— at least, when there was any cause for it, such as the long-held disguise these three had pulled off— he was surprised to find that the sincerity in Liliana’s voice, and more importantly in her light grey eyes, didn’t place any doubt in his mind of their innocence. For a moment after she spoke the room remained quiet enough to hear a pin drop, and he had the suspicion that everyone around him felt oddly the same way.

Arthur stared the three of them down, and none in the trio looked away. “... Very well. Though you understand there will have to be some surveillance for a short while, I have seen no ill intentions in any of you. If you wish to remain serving at this castle, you are free to do so.” 

Except for Evelyn’s ever-neutral calm sigh, the other two looked grateful, and more surprised than Merlin himself felt. The others in the room seemed to match those feelings (minus Algernon’s annoyed huff), and when Arthur dismissed them everyone began settling back to normal. 

As they patiently filed out of the room, Gaius and Merlin ended up standing next to the three girls. Gaius leaned in towards Liliana, the closest one to him, with something of an amused look on his face.

“Though really, I must say I find myself surprised you were able to keep it up for this long. Those really were not the most convincing of disguises.”

The girl blushed sheepishly, and the two next to her chuckled in agreement.

Suddenly it dawned on Merlin. “-wait. Gaius. You knew?” 

“You didn’t?” Again some snickering, which Merlin just playfully rolled his eyes at with a shake of his head. In all honesty, he hadn’t had any idea. “You worry me sometimes, Merlin.”

“He worries me too, Gaius.” Gwaine clamped him on the back as he came upon them with the other knights next to him. He directed a roguish at the blonde. “Though I must say, Lady Evelyn, I’m quite offended. You somehow managed to fool me as well. These two I’d understand,” he indicated towards the other two knights who the women were serving, “But me? I should have known.”

“What can I say? Pulling the wool over others’ eyes might be a specialty of mine.” Evelyn gave an effortless shrug of her lean shoulders.

“‘These two’?” Leon repeated. “Actually, I can’t say I didn’t have my suspicions.”

At this, Leigh blushed slightly. “Yes… there were a few close calls there, milord. To be honest, I was quite worried you would report us.” 

“You guys are idiots,” Elyan said, though biting words couldn’t hide the friendly affection in his eyes.

Another round of laughs followed. As the procession stepped slowly forwards, they all turned to direct a curious look at Percival. After a moment of staring back at them, he gave a resigned shrug. “I didn’t suspect it.”

“It can’t be helped,” Leigh said, sounding almost like a teasing mother, putting an arm around Liliana’s shoulder. “Ana was the only one amongst us that was truly convincing.” The victim of the teasing gave a pouty huff, leading to her being prodded on the ribs by her taller friends. 

They made it to the doors and everyone went their separate ways. As Merlin and Gaius made their way towards their chambers, though, and passed the count Algernon, he swore he could hear the man mumble “Dishonest, but at least they’re not sore on the eyes.”

Merlin had to make an active effort to only keep his hands balled as fists.

  
  
  


Already having been settled into the castle as men, and after the knights’ collective consent at being allowed to continue to be their personal servants, it only took two or three weeks to settle back into the castle as women. Her duties remained virtually the same, and Ana was pleased to note that no one really treated her differently— the only notable change was them now sharing a room with other maids, instead of Colton, and the appearance of much less inhibited flirting between her bodaciously tall friend and Gwaine, much to the annoyance of everyone in the immediate vicinity. 

As she stepped outside Ana paused in her walk for a moment to turn her tanned face towards the sun, unable to stop the content feeling that relaxed her features. Ana decided that the biggest upside to this revelation— other than better fitting clothes, and less time in the morning spent disguising herself— was finally letting her hair down. Literally.

Though she had always been a bit disappointed in it’s plain nature, it’s brown tresses falling most boringly down to the middle of her back in a straight line, she hadn’t realized how much she had missed it’s length until she had to put it up every day. Now the breeze rolled through her hair and around the skirts of her simple servant’s dress, bringing a smile to her lips.

Another woman she recognized from the kitchens walked by her and cleared her throat teasingly, jolting Ana back to the present. She gave a sheepish wave in return and continued on in her original duties. When she had made it to the stables she noticed no one nearby. Hesitantly, she gave a knock on the wooden gate, calling out. 

“Hello? Is someone there?”

“Aye aye! Sorry I’ll be there in a moment, please step inside!” Cried out a woman’s thickly accented voice from the back. “Beware the dung, tho’, ‘m afraid these fellas produce ‘em faster than I can clean ‘em!”

With cautious footsteps Ana made her way inside, standing close to a few horses. Most of them glanced her direction then turned away lazily, bu there was one who didn’t. It had a deeply chestnut brown coloring, and long, powerful legs. She stood still as it walked close to her, and she couldn’t help but be slightly intimidated— it was taller than she. It pressed it’s muzzle against her shoulder, pushing her backwards, and for a moment she was genuinely terrified it was trying to get her to leave. If that was the horse’s wishes she was definitely not going to fight back.

Soon however it repeated the motions a few time, though gentler these times, perhaps sensing her fear, and she realized it simply wanted attention. 

“Is this what you’re asking for?” She tentatively reached a hand up to just between it’s ears, and began petting it gently. It nuzzled into her hand and a rush of affection went through her. “Oh, you might be large but you’re just sweet, aren’t you?” Ana couldn’t help crooning as she continued, now stroking down it’s rich, medium-brown mane. 

“She’s a big softie, huh?” 

Though the sudden voice made Ana nearly jump out of her skin the horse remained calm, nuzzling again against her to get her to continue. Absently she complied, but turned over to face the voice. The woman was perhaps on the taller side, with a head of curly, fiery hair framing her flushed cheeks. Actually, her entire complexion seemed to be flushed pink, no doubt from the constant burns one sustained from standing in the sun all day with no protection. 

“The name’s Nerida. I’m the head stable girl, and ‘tis my job to take care of all of these here.” The freckles that seemed to cover every corner of her face moved as she gave a fond expression to the horses, and began petting the back of the one currently giving Ana attention. “This one’s Honeysuckle. She’s usually the shy type but she’s seemed to have taken quite a liking to ye’. Not that I’m surprised, she really is a huge softie once she warms up to ye’.” 

Ana couldn’t help but laugh softly. “That’s good to know. My name is Ana. I am a personal servant for the knights.”

Nerida gave her a curious, almost conspiratorial look. “Really? Did you know one of those girls who tricked everyone into thinkin’ they were men?”

“Ah… actually…” She could feel her face turn warm. “I was one of those three…”

The ginger gave an almost dramatically startled gasp, making the horses around them glare at the noise. “No way! How’d ye’ manage it for… how long was it? A month? Two months?”

“Yes… well, it was quite worrying, and rather difficult to keep up, so let’s just say I’m quite glad to no longer have to try.” 

She seemed to be content with this answer, and soon went back to giving more of the horses her attention. Ana couldn’t help but find it rather endearing, how the rather muscular woman’s voice lilted with affection when addressing the animals.

“You said you were a servant to one of the knights right? Which one?”

“Sir Percival.”

Again Nerida shot her a shocked look. “Ye’ don’t say… I should’a known.”

“Sorry?”

“That’s alright. Sorry t’make you wait, what did you mean to come here for?”

“Oh, the knights are going off on a hunting expedition. I was asked to find Sir Percival’s horse.”

The woman gave her a grin. “I think you can guess which one that is.”

For a moment Ana simply gave her a bizarre look. How would she know which horse belonged to a specific knight, when she knew next to nothing about the animals in the first place? But after a moment of scanning her eyes over the stable, she realized it was the horse she was standing next to. The one that had immediately warmed up to her. 

Silently the stablemaid went about saddling up the mare, and when she finished, passed her the reins. 

“A-ah, right, well. I will be off then. Thank you.”

“Have fun,” Nerida lilted back.

She knew the bright color in her cheeks didn’t go unnoticed, but she was glad at least that the other had the courtesy of not mentioning it. Grabbing the reins she walked over towards the courtyard where the knights were gathered. Percival, in all his height and stature, was quite easy to spot, and she easily brought over the calm mare to him. 

He turned and gave a slightly surprised look, but it quickly melted into a relaxed expression. “Seems she warmed up to you quickly. It usually takes her a while.”

Ana laughed a bit nervously. “She’s very sweet, so I’m glad she did.”

For a moment they simply shared a quiet smile. Then he seemed to consider something as he stared at the two of them, and it took considerable effort on her part not to fidget under his intense, blue-eyed gaze.

“Is something wrong, milord?”

“No… it’s just— you two have the same hair color.”

She nearly choked. “Wh-what?” 

A guffaw from behind caused her to turn, and Gwaine rode up on his steed. “Oh Percy, you always know exactly what to say. Quite the charmer, aren’t we?” 

Honeysuckle gave the other horse a hefty shove of her nose, causing Ana and Percival to chuckle. 

“You tell him, girl,” he scratched the horse gently behind the ears.

Then Arthur began calling his men to attention. Percival gave her a nod goodbye, jumped on his horse with surprising grace, and rode off, his red cape blowing strikingly against the breeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nerida's 5'6"! Ahaha... I love writing the banter of the knights. I hope I do it well! Help me out and leave me some comments about my portrayal? I also hope you like the OCs I've put in. Nerida at the moment is the last one to be introduced, though you haven't properly met the aunt and brother yet.


	7. Moonflower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That is enough, milord!” She could physically feel her blush creep across her ears and down her neck, but in her surprise and flustered state she only kept barelling on, waving her finger angrily in the direction of him.

All in all, when there weren’t betrayals or wars or witch hunts going on, Camelot was a relatively calm place. Relatively. It did seem that when the outside world was calm, the insides of the castle grew more hectic just to make up for the lack of excitement— usually over minor things, though, like a shortage of pillows, or a week of misbehaving horses, or Gwaine trying to fend off a much needed haircut. 

At the moment, though, even in Camelot’s standards of peace time, which Arthur as king had presently brought onto the land, the past month or so had been especially tranquil. And though he liked the adventure, liked being able to serve his king and protect the people, Percival had to admit it was pretty nice to be able to rest too. To not have every day be a matter of life or death. Heaven knows he had had quite a hefty helping of that in his lifetime already.

And tonight, with the moon’s crescent just barely filtering in through the grand windows of the hallway, Percy walked in peace. His footsteps were the only thing that followed him for a while as he made his way absently through the castle, going to deliver a message to the guards currently on night patrol. 

Once that was finished he began heading towards his chambers, but before he got very far he heard a noise. It seemed to be another set of footsteps, but oddly enough while the person seemed to keep on walking, it didn’t sound like they were coming nearer or farther. He turned the corner with a furrowed brow, and saw a slim figure pacing in front of the castle’s main doors. 

He allowed himself to simply stand there with his arms crossed over his chest, attempting to understand Ana’s purpose. He noticed she was mumbling slightly to herself, making a rather intense expression, and Percival could almost guess that she seemed to be trying to decide something. 

For a moment he considered wishing her a good night and moving on, or turning around and taking another route back to his room, but concern and, to be honest, simple, genuine curiosity prevented it. 

“Is everything alright?” His voice felt almost obtrusive in the previous silence. The girl seemingly thought so as well, as at his words she let out a startled yelp, and actually jumped in fright. Unluckily for her, she had paced too close to a suit of armor, and had fallen into it with a rather heavy clammer. 

Percival on blinked for a moment before coming forward, leaning down to look at her in what was now a pile of metal and limbs. 

“Liliana.” 

She lifted her head dazedly at being called, a partially open helmet of armor coming along with her. 

“Hm? What is it?” Her bleary tone came out with the echo of metal. 

Percy reached a hand out and fully opened the mask’s eye cover, allowing her to see. He finally had a chance to see her up close, as she seemed to regain her bearings, and realized she had many more freckles than one could see from afar— an almost unflattering amount, but he couldn’t help but find it endearing. They were lightly dusted around her cheeks, and most heavily concentrated on the bridge of her nose. But the most striking part was that he could now see just how light grey of a color her eyes were.

Finally her gaze seemed to come into focus.

“Heavens! I apologize, milord, I really am such a feather-foot sometimes—” She started frantically shooing the armor off her, and he merely stood and offered her his hand. She blinked at it for a moment, cheeks slightly flushed, before taking it with an apologetic furrow of her brow. For a moment, then, they simply stood side by side, now looking down at the dismantled suit.

“You really killed him, didn’t you?”

The brunette only looked at him with shock, until she seemed to realize he had been joking. She let out a nervous laugh, “Oh yes, what can I say? He and I were always enemies. … You don’t think the king will have me punished for this, do you? I would try to repair it but I really haven’t the slightest idea how… ” She guiltily bit at her lip.

“If Arthur asks we can just blame it on Gwaine. That’s what the rest of us usually do.”

She laughed sincerely, and he found himself smiling back contagiously. He looked up and saw the grand doors, and realized what he had been wondering in the first place.

 

“Why were you pacing earlier?”

“Oh…” She glanced nervously over towards the entrance doors. “Oh nothing, it was silly I…” Percival, as the man of many words that he was aware he was, merely continued to look at her, until she gave a sigh. “It’s- well, it’s a bit difficult to explain.” Another patient pause. “My brother has something of an ailment, and Gaius has been making a medicine for me to send him. But tonight he told me he needs me to go get an ingredient from the forest— he said he would’ve sent Merlin, but it seems he went off somewhere to help Arthur and has yet to return, meanwhile the plant only gives off the seeds at night in this season. ” 

“Then why don’t you go?”

Ana bit her lip again, shame written over her expression as she stared down at her hands. In a surprisingly meek voice, she mumbled “I am…” but the rest was lost.

“Sorry?”

She took in a breath and suddenly stared up at him. “I am afraid of the night. Of the dark.” She threw her hands up. “Oh it’s so silly! Here I am, a girl of 20 years of age, telling a _knight_ of Camelot of her irrational fear. But it’s true. I have never been able to stand being outdoors in the dark— the mere thought raises goose flesh over my skin.” Her wrinkles deepened with guilt. “I’m sorry, milord, I really shouldn’t be bothering you with this.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” He asked simply.

“What? No, milord, I-I couldn’t ask that of you, you needn’t bother about my own trivial problems.”

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” and Percival found that, as much as he had been eager to go lay flat in his bed a few minutes prior, he truly didn’t mind. 

“I couldn’t.”

He stared at her for a few seconds more, then walked towards the doors. He pushed one open and peered outside, craning his neck up towards the sky. 

“Ah, it’s a good night for a stroll. I guess I’ll just go by myself then.” He looked over his shoulder quickly, gave a slut, and went. He began walking down the stairs towards the courtyard, and was glad to hear her lighter steps fall behind him. 

He slowed to walk next to her, and for a little while they simply made their way through the nearly empty streets of the town in comfortable silence. 

“Milord…” he glanced down to see an appreciative twitch of her lips push away her final look of guilt. “I’m sorry to bother you with this… but thank you.”

“No bother at all,” and he was glad to see that her smile grew genuine when she returned his. He found that her body posture still seemed to hold an air of trepidation. She was standing close enough that when the breeze blew gently against them, her hair tickled his arm just slightly (Percival was sure this proximity had to do with her nerves towards the dark, as she before always stood the good distance from him that servants always seemed to stand at). He could also feel her trembling ever so slightly, but some instinctive part of him knew it wasn’t from the night chill.

“Liliana,” he spoke gently.

“Yes, milord?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be here.”

Even in the dark of the nearly-moonless night he could see her eyes widen as she recognized her own words echoed back. He was again relieved to find that her smile finally seemed to reach her eyes, and she stopped trembling, taking a hair of a step closer towards him. 

“Sire?”

“Yes?”

“I- You can- that is, if you would like, feel free to call me Ana. Ever since my brother came up with it, everyone has referred to me by that name. Though, to be honest, he no longer uses that nickname.”

He gave a silent nod, and she seemed content.

“Your brother…” Percy wasn’t one to shove himself into the personal business of others, but he found himself unable to not ask. “Is his ailment serious?”

“Oh, no. Well, I won’t lie and say it isn’t light, but thankfully as long as Ali takes that medicine he remains in perfect condition. Ah,” he looked down to see a fond smile take over her lips. “Perfect for his standards, at least, considering how often he gets himself into trouble.”

When she looked at him he shot a small, questioning smile back. 

“Ali?”

Perhaps, the voice in the back of Percival’s mind told him, it was simply his own lack of relatives, but he found himself wanting to know more. Ana nodded at him, and she didn’t even seem to notice as the ground turned to the uneven mulch of the forest, the tenderness in her eyes deepening as her focus turned distant.

“Yes, my brother. Allister. He’s four years my junior, but I have to say he’s quite my opposite.” Percival silently gave a questioning glance. “Where I might be nervous, or cautious, or timid, he has always been… effortlessly confident. Loud. He is very easy going, and he is fiercely loyal. He is also incredibly reckless, by the way, much to my chagrin, but that is the way family is, I suppose. Oh!”

She suddenly stopped, and he stopped next to her as she crouched to the ground. Her hair fell over her shoulder.

“These are the plants we need, so the seeds must be scattered around here!”

And so the two of them, though Liliana tried to protest to him helping, spent a half hour of pleasant, quiet conversation. When they walked back towards the castle neither of them minded that their fingers were now covered in dirt. They went along the castle corridors until the hallway came where she had to turn away to get to Gaius’ chambers. 

She gave a friendly bow of her head, the movement rustling the folds of her skirt that held the pile of seeds within it. 

“Good night, milord.”

“Good night, Ana.”

“And thank you.”

With a nod, they went their separate ways.

  
  
  


“No!” She gasped, trying very hard to hold back her scandalized laughter. “Tell me that did _not_ happen.”

“ ‘Tis sadly true.” Nerida’s freckles crinkled against her laugh lines. “ ‘s a big reason why I’m the only one of my siblings workin’ in the castle alongside mum and dad— after the twins had to shave their heads ‘cause of that they could never trust my younger sister again.”

“And the rest of your siblings?”

“Married away, or found work elsewhere. They left in a bit of a hurry, though, after that incident, so I think there is a correlation between the two.” 

Ana let out a rather loud chuckle just as another servant passed by the stable. She noticed him as someone who often worked in the kitchens, and much to her horror realized the platters he was carrying only contained the leftovers of food. 

“Heavens!” She cried, suddenly folding her weaving and picking up her skirts. As she scrambled her friend gave her a look that made Ana feel like she had suddenly grown extra heads from her elbows. “I didn’t realize breakfast had already passed— I didn’t realize how late it had become!”

Nerida let out a low chuckle. “That’s something I like about my mares; they don’t have too much of a schedule to keep up with— watch out!” Ana looked ahead of her just in time to duck under a wooden beam four men were carrying. “See you later?” the ginger called out.

“Of course!” Ana waved as she continued running, and by the time she was turning into a narrow corridor just near the meeting room she was in such a hurry that she didn’t realize what had happened until she was already on the ground, staring up at an aggressively bright violet fabric leaning against a wall. Glancing up a little higher made her realize it was a person she had run into.

“If you insist on running through the halls like some kind of madman at least watch where you—” the count’s angry tirade cut off the moment he realized she was the perpetrator. “Apologies, I didn’t mean to lose my temper in front of a— well get up! Don’t make me stare at the dirty ground while I speak.”

“Y-yes, milord, of course.” She hurried to stand, picking up what she had dropped and placing them quickly into the pockets of her dress. It took a moment of him staring at her impatiently with his dark green eyes for her to remember herself. “I- my sincerest apologies, milord, I was worried I would be tardy for my morning duties and I ended up run-”

“Oh, never mind excuses.”

At his annoyed dismissal she was about to excuse herself, but he cut her off with a veiny hand gripped tightly around her wrist. She stared up at him in confusion, could feel her heart beat faster with nerves.

“Milord?”

“I suppose, however, I could be inclined to accept your apology.” There was something about that sly smirk of his that slowly inched closer to her face that made her feel grimy all over. “It is a shame, I hadn’t realized your appeal when you were dressed as some sewer boy.” Though she could feel her skin cringing at his touch, she somehow found the courage to stare back into his intense gaze.

“Please allow me to go, milord.” 

To her mild surprise, and quick relief, he let go and casually raised his open palms in front of his face. It took everything in her not to take a step backwards.

“Of course, of course, a servant must get back to her _duties._ ” Though there was no anger in his voice, there was this edge of superiority he made no attempt to conceal that left a bitter taste in her mouth. “But if you need something,” he put his hand against her shoulder, “you know where you can find me.”

“Ah yes,” called out a familiar voice. Evelyn strode down the hallway, Leigh all but glaring next to her. Ana looked again and saw that the count had visibly tensed in the presence of the blonde. “And where would that be again? A room full of mirrors so you could be with your one true love?” Leigh couldn’t hold back a snort beside her. Algernon glowered at her.

“If you would excuse me, servants, I must go do something actually useful with my time.”

Once he was gone Ana quickly walked towards her friends, placing a hand on each of their arms. “Thank you,” she whispered, and Leigh just had the time to give a kind squeeze back, her feminine features shifting kindly, just as the king strode past them. After a chorus of good mornings all of the nobles proceed after him, and the three women followed. 

They each split apart around the room as they went about their assigned tasks, Evelyn jotting down notes of whatever the nobles beside her instructed— she had a surprisingly quick hand that Ana reminded herself to ask about later— Leigh cleaning the floor tiles near the far end of the room, and Ana herself cleaning out the old wax of the candle stands.

She didn’t pay attention to the matters discussed, as it was neither her place as a servant to do anything but focus on the task at hand, and, if she were being entirely honest, as it all seemed to be rather mundane matters of little secrecy. A town here had low milk production, a group of traders there found a booming amount of firewood, and as Ana spared a glance to look at the faces of the men that stood in the room, particularly that of the knights, she could tell they weren’t very thrilled.

Gwaine, for his part, looked like he would rather be eating a live snake. 

Despite her best efforts, though, the brunette couldn’t help but overhear as Algernon voiced his opinion— neither could the entire kingdom of Camelot, it almost seemed, by the volume at which he was yelling.

“This is utterly ridiculous! If there is a shortage perhaps stop donating so many clothes to those peasants who do not even work to earn it. Sire, with all due respect you cannot expect the hard-working people of my towns to have to switch to these hideous cloth sellers simply because of a small trading route dispute?”

“He has proved himself to be the expert on hideous clothes, it would seem.” 

Ana hadn’t even realized she had spoken until she heard a choking cough next to her. She looked over to see that two knights, Percival and Leon, had walked towards the window behind her to look out at something without her realizing, and had been close enough to hear her muttered comment. 

There was a moment where Percival was simply recovering from coughing, and the cheeks below her horrified eyes were colored a flaming cherry pie red, where they simply locked eyes. Then, he burst out laughing. It was not the slight snicker, or even the hearty chuckle she had heard from him before (often in the company of his fellow knights), but a full, heaving laugh. Liliana had learned that his often stoic appearance was not on account of an ill-temperament, or a harsh personality, but simply of a calm, steadfast one. Even still, it was rare for her to hear him chuckle, and even rarer to hear a full guffaw.

Leon snickered beside his fellow knight, but was nowhere near as loudly. Her eyes only grew wider, not at all the eyes that were suddenly on them, or the bewildered silence from the rest of those in the room, but on how affable Percival looked, his large fist covering his mouth in an attempt to stifle the noise. There was an open, almost boyish crinkle in his eyes as his shoulders shook, and he attempted to regain his composer. Ana herself found it almost contagious, and had to stifle a few chuckles herself, though her cheeks still burned with shame.

“Sorry to interrupt, Arthur, I-” he gave a deep clear of his throat, and though the ghost of a crooked smile sat on his lips he seemed to mostly have returned to his normal self. “I’m okay now.”

“Well, what was so funny?” The king asked, not necessarily in accusation but more in total confusion.

Percival shared the quickest glance with Ana, his lip twitching upwards, before he looked at Leon and nodded. They walked back towards the table.

“I saw something in the street. Ah, uh, chicken. It was nothing.”

Arthur shot him an unconvinced look, and his voice dragged a bit as if he suspected a slight craze to be taking hold of the knight. “Right… well, as we were saying, I believe, the best course of action would be to,”

And the discussion carried on. It took Ana a few moments to remember her duties, though as she went back to picking out wax she looked around her to find a few pairs of eyes on her. Gwaine shot an almost impressed look over his shoulder at her, all but giving her a thumbs up, and her two friends gave her a questioning glance. She simply shrugged back. 

As she began placing new candles into the now free holders, she noticed Merlin coming up next to her. He leaned over to her ear and whispered in a conspiratorial manner.

“What was it you said?” 

Ana turned and looked into his eyes, which were levelling an extremely curious glance at her. She felt a smile tug at her lips, and with a sly shrug went back to placing candles.

“It would seem I might be getting a promotion to court jester soon.”

She could feel him chuckle beside her, as he went about dusting the windows.

“Sorry, Arthur has already made it very clear he intends that to be my job. Or that he already thinks it is.”

“Oh, and I was so looking forward to the hat. Maybe we could be a dual act?”

With a bump of shoulders the two shared a quiet laugh.

  
  
  


“Arthur- please just- allow me to help— ”

“No! No! Back off. I can tie my own blasted armor myself or I swear I am not the king of Camelot. You always make it too tight anyway.”

“Maybe it isn’t the armor that is the problem.” 

As she kneeled on the armory floor, scrubbing calmly at the dirt on the tiles that the knights always trekked in after their patrols and practices, Ana couldn’t help but think how the way the king swatted away Merlin’s hands reminded her of her own little brother, when he was a small child being selfish with his belongings. And the way he threw things at him. Though the easy friendliness and lack of formality that the king addressed his knights with, and in return quite a few of his men addressed him with, had surprised her, she had now gotten used to it, and simply found it charming.

“What are you smiling so endeared for, Ana?”

She nearly yelped at the voice that so suddenly spoke near to her ear. Nearly. She did however instinctively place a hand against her heart. The girl looked up to find Gwaine leaning over from where he sat on the bench, his elbows resting against his knees as they absently finished tying up his wrist armor.

“Sir Gwaine, you startled me.” 

He gave her his usual dazzling smile. She couldn’t help but think of how there was something genuine and sweet about his flirtatious nature. He always seemed to make it clear that there was no malice in the act, simply admiration, or playfulness. And it was probably that knowledge that kept Ana from often blushing at how he spoke. 

“Ah, yes, well, excessive beauty does tend to have that effect on people. So does my impressive stealth.” He was, however, a bit narcissistic. 

“The only thing that would consider you stealthy is a rampaging bull inside of a burning glass shop,” Leon retorted, much to the amusement of the others.

“Har har,” Gwaine said with a roll of his eyes. Still leaning towards her, he seemed to notice her weakly holding back a giggle. “Traitor.” 

As he brushed his hair behind his ear, Ana was about to respond when she saw a mark peeking outside of his collar over his armor. “Milord, did you hurt yourself?”

“I don’t think so? What do you mean?”

Her shyness easily overridden by concern, she stood up on her knees and peared closer at his neck. The knight on his part only inched his neck slightly to give her more of a view, still sending her a look under his confused brows.

“There, on your neck, is a vividly red ma—”

All of a sudden his roughened hands clamped over the spot, and he stood up so quickly away from her that she was simply left there startled. But it was too late, as the pair had accidentally called the attention of the rest of the room. Gwaine, for once his usual suave wit failing him, tried to come up with an excuse, making most of the men laugh.

“You see I burned myself with a torch-”

“A torch’s flame can be that small?” Merlin feigned incredulity. 

“And afterwards I fell on a broomstick-”

“Tell me, how do you fall only on the tip of the broom’s handle?” Elyan asked.

“And then I-”

“Oh, give it up.” A deeply-set grin was on Percival’s face.

Ana could feel herself blush slightly, though she decided to continue on scrubbing the floors with renewed interest. She hoped that her own lack of understanding wasn’t clear to those around her— though she had somehow accidentally started this.

“Oh fine!” Gwaine said, throwing his arms up and then sticking out a finger at his tormentors. “You’ve caught me. And I will proudly let you know that I have been marked by the passionate throes of a beautiful woman’s lips.”

As the others in the room broke into a mixture of engrossed noises and hearty applause, Ana tried her best not to choke out a gasp. _It was_ that _kind of mark,_ she thought. Her mind briefly went back to the memory of when she realized she had to have that certain kind of talk with her younger brother, only to have it turn into him giving _her_ the talk.

She looked up to notice Percival’s gaze on her. At his questioning glance she realized her cheeks were burning, and quickly cast her eyes back to the floor to keep on vigorously scrubbing.

“No, sorry men, a gentleman does not tell of his adventures in love, unless his lover wishes for it to be so.” Gwaine, still conversing, gave a casual shrug.

“Good thing you’re not a gentleman, then.” Another round of laughter at Gwaine’s expense, to which he simply responded with patting Merlin’s shoulder and giving a self-deprecating grin. It was Elyan who responded.

“Was it a certain beautiful blonde that you have been moon-eyed over these past few weeks? What was it again? ‘Her eyes are like a forest caught on fire in the pale morning light.’” 

“—!” In her bewilderment Ana accidentally knocked over her pail of dirty water with a loud clang, soaking her dress and everything in the near vicinity. Her blush deepened furiously as the rest of the room turned to look at her. Thankfully, there weren’t very many present, but she didn’t have the concentration to be relieved at that at the moment. “S-sorry milord, I- that is I-”

“Ana.” Gwaine spoke very slowly, and gave her a surprisingly— and annoyingly— serious look. “You look like a deer at the wrong end of an arrow— is this all new to you?”

“I- well, I-” 

“Gwaine-” Percival tried to calm him down but his friend was too far into teasing.

“Could it be you’ve never experienced the passions of a lover’s embrace? I’m taken aback. You are an adult aren’t you?” He had an aggravatingly amused light in his eyes.

“I-”

“You haven’t had even one lover? If you need someone to teach you, I know a particularly willing—”

“That is enough, milord!” She could physically feel her blush creep across her ears and down her neck, but in her surprise and flustered state she only kept barelling on, waving her finger angrily in the direction of him. “I find that it is none of your business whether or not I have done anything in my personal love life, and I ask you not to act so condescending towards me about it, simply because only one of us seems to have been around!”

For a tense minute the room seemed to go entirely quiet— everyone going into shock over her sudden and entirely out of character outburst. None were more surprised, nor more ashamed, than the speaker herself, though, and she quickly threw herself into a bow, ignoring the dampness of the floor as she touched her head to the tile.

“My-milord, I apologize, I didn’t mean any disrespect. I suddenly became flustered and I lost control of myself— please forgive me! 

Her cry was met by a deep, long laugh. She raised her head slowly, cautiously, only to see Gwaine nearly doubling over in laughter, and the few around him chuckling as well. To her own surprise there was no edge to his expression— quite the contrary, his wrinkles deepend with his laughter, and his smile showed easy joy. He held out a hand, albeit one that was still shaking from his chuckles, and helped her stand.

“There’s no need to be sorry. You’re right, I went a bit far, and I apologize.” She gave an appreciative nod, which seemed to relieve him. 

It wasn’t often that Ana took on a self-deprecating look, but with her appearance she couldn’t help it, even if it was almost every single time. A startled gasp made her eyes snap up. She had almost forgotten there were others in the room, and with a very light blush her eyes were drawn to Percival, who was looking along with mild confusion towards the noise.

“Did Gwaine, Sir Gwaine, _the_ Sir Gwaine of Camelot, actually give an apology? Merlin, quickly, this day must be marked in the history books!” 

The knight grabbed his glove and chucked it at the king, who blocked it with faux-offense.

“Hey, hey! No throwing apparel at your king.”

Merlin inspected the blonde. “And you _did_ manage to put on your armor by yourself, so true to your word you may call yourself the king again.”

With a roll of his eyes Arthur waved his hand, beckoning towards the doorway. “Alright alright, come. We’ve wasted enough time here today, so let’s leave before we make our hard-working Liliana burst into flames.”

Ana gave a small, if still slightly embarrassed, wave, before walking towards the back to try and reach a shelf that had dry rags. Even on the tips of her toes her fingers only just brushed the edge of the edge of the shelf she needed.

“I’ll catch up with you in a moment.” Though she didn’t move, she could hear a familiar voice call out towards his comrades. A moment later his presence was behind her, a surprisingly pleasant warmth following him. “Here,” with ease he grabbed what she had been reaching for and handed the cloth to her. 

For a moment Ana could only stare at him. In this proximity she could see now the pale stubble that moved along his strong jaw, and sat against the broad, square end of his chin. And when she looked up, into calm, kind eyes she realized just the shade of blue they were— exactly the same as forget me nots. When a corner of his lip twitched slightly she realized she hadn’t said a word.

“Oh- thank you! Thank you. I wish they wouldn’t… make these shelves quite so… er, tall.” The brunette had to stop herself from visibly cringing at herself.

She took the rags gently from his hands and began wiping up the spilled water. This afternoon had really become a bit of a mess. She hadn’t meant to become worked up, but there was something so open and sincere about the lively way everyone seemed to interact in this castle that brought out a side of her she hadn’t even fully known of herself. It was also, at least partly, that she was sure the matter of her inexperience in love was due to her gland appearance, which was a sore spot for her.

She was almost lost in thought when a large hand swam into her vision, holding a rag of its own, and her head shot up in surprise to see Percival squatting near her, cleaning up the water as well. At this point her emotions were so exhausted that she hadn’t the energy to be frantic they way she normally would be.

“Milord, there is no need to bother yourself with this- it’s my own duty to clean up.”

“But if it wasn’t for us, you wouldn’t have spilled the pail in the first place.” He probably sensed her protest coming, because he gazed deeply into her eyes, a stubborn edge in his amiable gaze. “I’m not going to stop. I’ll spill more water if that means I can help.”

She couldn’t help a laugh, and after sharing a grin they both went back to cleaning up. For once she thought the task was over much too quickly.

Perhaps it hadn’t been such an unfortunate afternoon after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I try to get the relationship between Arthur and his knights down, asdasdad. Leave me some comments on how you think I do, and maybe a kudos if you enjoy it so far?


	8. Anthurium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Want to make things interesting?”
> 
> Percival gave a roll of his eyes, but there wasn’t much protest behind the act. “Why do you always have to try and make things interesting?”
> 
> “Because I just hate being bored.”

In the early morning sunrise, as his boots brushed against the dewed grass, and the birds chirped merrily in the trees, Gwaine had to wonder _why?_

He understood why the knights had to train as much as they did. Hell, he didn’t even mind the rigor. He liked testing his skills against worthy opponents, and he liked improving. He also liked being able to eat however many pies he wanted without going out of shape, and with the rigorous exercise they always had Gwaine knew that wouldn’t be a problem. But _why_ was it specifically necessary that they had their practice so early in the morning? Wouldn’t a mid-afternoon or early-evening time work just as well? Dueling at sundown sounded perfect, romantically and chivalrously speaking.

Apparently not. And he was apparently the only one that seemed to mind. As he scrubbed his hand over his face, down his beard, one of his comrades next to him was whistling out an annoyingly jaunty tune. 

“Elyan,” he all but groaned. “For the love of all that is good in the Five Kingdoms, please stop before I have to go to the kitchen and stuff some bread in ears.”

“As if the cook would ever let you take her bread,” the one in question replied with a cheeky grin, before continuing on with his song. Gwaine groaned again.

“Is it just me, or are you in a particularly bad mood this morning?” Percival asked with his rather signature arched brow.

“I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

Elyan’s smile turned slightly devious. “Did someone keep you up?”

“Oh gods, please do _not_ answer that, I want to avoid a repeat of last week’s conversation.” At Leon’s plea Gwaine gave a chuckle, only responding by holding his palms up to the sides of his face in a show of innocence. 

Three quarters of an hour later Gwaine was wiping sweat from his brow with one hand, and holding out a hand for the fellow knight he had just defeated in a spar. He gave the fellow knight a solid few pats on his back. “Good fight, Rynier. Your parry has definitely improved. You really gave me a run for my money there.” As the man walked away smiling, Gwaine couldn’t help the crooked edge that spread over his lips. “Anyone else want to try a hand? I won’t go easy.” 

“Is that a promise?” 

Gwaine’s grin only grew as Percival grabbed a sword and made his way towards him. It had been a while since the two sparred, and Gwaine would admit (though not to the man himself), that they were almost evenly matched. Almost.

“Want to make things interesting?”

Percival gave a roll of his eyes, but there wasn’t much protest behind the act. “Why do you always have to try and make things interesting?”

“Because I just hate being bored.” Gwaine thought it over for a moment. As a recent quarrel came back to his memories, his face lit up with no small amount of devious undertones. “How about this? Winner of the fight, and of the fight of any further challengers, gets to claim the title of victor— and the victor gets to take the _lavish pillow_ to his room permanently?”

He could hear a good portion of the knights around him give fired up cheers, and even Percival’s generally stoic expression lit up noticeably with determination. 

“Not fair!” Elyan cried out. “I want in.”

As the two men put themselves in a battle stance, a grin lifted the corner of Percival’s lips. “After me.”

Gwaine could only grin back, preparing himself for what was sure to be a fiercely competitive tournament.

  
  
  


“I am sorry to bother you with this, Liliana.” Guinevere’s voice was its usual calm, sincere self. “I always try to tie it myself, but it seems they only make the ribbons more and more difficult these days.”

“It is my honor to be able to help you with this, milady.” And she meant it. Ana had always been one to admire the beautiful robes and gowns of the noble women she saw, although until she came to work at the citadel she had only ever seen them on the backs of merchants’ carts. Seeing them on the women themselves was an entirely different beauty. 

Her fingers easily threaded the soft silk through its place around the waistline, and it was a pleasantly absent enough task that Ana could enjoy looking at the details of the embroidery up close, as well as hold conversation with the lady Guinevere which, to be honest, she also found herself quite enjoying.

“I must say, it is quite strange... I remember being in your very position. As a servant, I was always the one to help others with their gowns. And now here I am, as queen, being the one that is helped. I’m afraid I still haven’t entirely become accustomed to it.”

“It must be a difficult position to get used to.”

“Yes, well, it is certainly a different situation than my upbringing. But for Arthur, I would gladly do anything… Even put up with corsets.”

Ana let out a soft giggle, before tying the finishing bow and standing. “It is done, milady. If it fits ill in anyway please allow me to adjust it.”

The queen gave a slight twirl, and gave a pleased nod. “It’s perfect.” 

After a shared smile, her expression seemed to shift towards inquiring, warm brown eyes searching. When she did not say anything, though, Ana couldn’t help but pipe up. “Is something the matter, milady?”

“Well, I must admit I’m not sure how to ask this, but I am very curious…” She took an effortlessly elegant seat on her bed, and patted the spot next to her. Ana complied and sat down. “I heard you grew up in a small town, some distance away, tending to the fields?”

“Yes, milady.”

“I mean this entirely with respect, but… how is it you learned to have such manners? Many, including myself when I was a servant, have to train, or live near the castle for a time to acquire them. I could say you are almost more polite than some of the nobles I have met in my time.”

Ana felt warmth dust her cheeks at the underlying, sincere compliment. She threaded her hands together and stared down at them, for a moment contemplating over the question. She had never really considered it, but it was true that Evelyn had complained in the past of the annoyance of needing to remember titles. Leigh had responded that as she had grown up a servant of castles, they had become second nature to her, but that wasn’t the case in Ana’s childhood.

“I believe it is because… When my parents passed, my brother and I had to move to another village, to stay under the care of the only friends of our family. However, they had eight kids of our own, so we were required to work to earn our stay. They always expected me to treat them and their children with manners, so I suppose treating my superiors with respect simply became natural.”

“I see.” Lady Guinevere seemed to think for a moment. “This may be bold of me, but please, there is no need to consider me your superior. I- that is, if it is alright, I would like to be your friend.” 

She could feel herself go into shock. How was it that so many people of this castle were so open and genial? In the past months she had already made so many friends , that Ana was rather sure it was more friends than any amount she had had in the previous 20 years of her life. “Of course, milady. That would be lovely.”

Guinevere’s smile was so kind that Ana almost felt tears prickle at her eyes. As she grasped her hands gently, Ana could see the queen’s hands were a pleasant few shades darker than hers, and though her skin was very smooth, there were still the remaining callouses from her time as a servant.

“You said you and your brother moved towns, did you do so often?”

“Yes, well… I’m afraid he has a bit of a temper, and often got into trouble. Because of it we have had to leave villages quite a few times.”

“That must have been difficult.”

“No, at least that allowed me to travel, and see flowers from all different regions. And it’s what you do for family— especially for one’s only sibling.”

The queen gave a knowing, almost wry smile. “Ah, yes, well that I know all too well. Elyan was quite similar when he was younger. There was actually a time Arthur and I had to travel to rescue him from peril— speaking of, I won’t keep you here too much longer. I’m sure you have other duties to attend to, and I know how impatient my husband can be.”

“Thank you, milady.” As they stood and parted, Ana felt a calming warmth in her chest. She walked almost serenely down the corridors.

“Someone is in very high spirits.” 

She turned to see Evelyn, Merlin, and Leigh walking towards her, all carrying laundry baskets. It was the latter who had spoken, her cheery smile pleasantly accenting the beautiful softness of her kind features as Ana grabbed a basket from her to carry.

“I had a very nice conversation with our kind queen.”

“Ah, yes, Gwen has that effect on people.” As the four of them continued to walk abreast, just able to fit down the width of the hallway, Merlin moved his hands, at least as much as he could with a basket between them along to what he was saying. “She even puts Arthur in a good mood which, let me tell you, is the work of a miracle all on its own.”

“Perhaps she practices sorcery,” Evelyn said with a casually teasing air. 

Everyone merely gave a nervous laugh in response. 

The four continued their walk when Colton came dashing down the opposite side. He stopped just in front of Merlin, looking urgently up at him.

“Gaius requests you urgently— he says a a group of patients suddenly came in that he cannot handle alone” 

“Understood.” 

As the other servant ran off, Merlin stood in contemplation. Leigh peered up into his eyes.

“What is it, Merlin?” 

“Arthur’s been upset at me lately, I’ve been to busy to wash his clothes for the past fortnight— He’s going to kill me if I miss drying them today.”

“Is that why he has been wearing such oddly colored pants as of late?”

Merlin cringed at Evelyn’s inquiry. “Probably…” 

“Then don’t worry,” Ana said looking up at him. “Give me his basket, we will handle it, and you can go help Gaius.”

His eyes lit up in a way that rendered his face so boyish, she couldn’t hold back a smile of her own. “You’ll cover for me?” 

“Of course.”

“Thank you! I’ll make it up to you!” He began running down the hallway.

“I have to let you know, I’m a rather bad liar though!”

“That’s fine!” Merlin called back. “So am I!”

When he left Ana took the basket from his arms. However she seemed to have underestimated the weight of the king’s laundry, and for a moment she could see herself, as if from a distance, stumbling as the load fell. In the time span of a blink, though, the basket was suddenly back in her hands, stacked on top of the other one she had originally had. She shot a confused look at her friends, but Leigh simply gave a dismissive chuckle, using a free hand to fidget with the necklace she always wore around her neck.

The clothing lines were in a sunny spot between two low-hanging buildings just outside of the castle, but to womens’ dismay they came too late in the morning, and the lines were already almost entirely full.

“Are you sure there is no more room?” Leigh asked the head maid.

“Yep, sorry. Go around the back to the extra lines, they should be near the training grounds.” 

They made their way, each taking up a different line for the different people they were drying clothes for.

Evelyn looked up at Leigh as she hung one of Gwaine’s tunics. “Why didn’t you tell her we were hanging the king’s clothes? Surely she would have made room.”

“She seemed so busy, it didn’t seem worth the trouble to bother her.” Leigh then gave a particularly devilish smirk as she looked over her shoulder, where in the distance the knights were sparring. “Besides, this way we have a private show as we watch.” 

“Leigh!” Ana was close enough that she could swat the other across the arm if she stretched. She did just that.

“She’s right. I hope the weather makes it so hot they have to take their shirts off,” Evelyn all but purred.

“Eve!” Ana wasn’t close enough this time, but she grabbed a wadded up cloak and chucked it at the blonde, who easily dodged it, though not without a devious chuckle. 

“As if you wouldn’t want to see Sir Muscles in his undergarments.” 

To her surprise, and deepening indignant blush, she turned to see Nerida walking towards them and adding to the conversation, tendrils of ginger hair bouncing in the wind. Two horses walked on either side of her with their reins in her hands.

“Don’t make me throw this whole basket, this one has the king’s clothes!”

Thankfully after a round of laughter they were able to go back to their work with the conversation switching topics, Nerida deciding to join in to makeup for the missing Merlin. Liliana carefully hung up each item, for a moment simply enjoying the feeling of having most friends near and in high spirits.

The more they hung the farther down the lines they had to move, which lead to them walking closer towards the knights’ sparring. Though still a pragmatic distance away, it wasn’t at all difficult to watch them train from here. Ana stared she recognized Percival’s sturdy figure swinging his sword in an arch through the air against a knight she didn’t recognize. For someone built so largely, his movements were surprisingly fluid, easily moving from one stance to another. Still, she could see that where he wasn’t quite as quick and nimble as his seemingly skilled opponent, each of his blows packed a heavy hit, and he was able to time them well enough to strike without needing as much speed.

Ana only realized she was holding a dripping linen mid-air when she felt something large nuzzle against her back.

“Oh, sorry dear! She seems to have slipped away from me.” Nerida quickly came to pull the mare back, but Ana hung up the breaches she was holding quickly and went to pet the familiar animal’s nose.

“It’s no problem— this one is Sir Percival’s horse, is it not?” 

“Aye, old Nutmeg must’ve recognized you from the other day.”

The horse whinnied happily as she scratched behind it behind the ear. Hand still absently patting, a particularly loud grunt in the distance made the brunette raise her head again, to see Percival pushing back two-handed against his opponents attempt at crossing swords. In the morning sun, with his sleeveless armor, she could see the way his muscles moved under his skin, tense from the continued combat. 

“You might scold us but even you’re guilty of enjoying the show, aren’t ‘ya?” 

Nerida’s words brought her back to reality, and she hurriedly began hanging up clothes again, though her embarrassment left her hands shaking and the job haphazard.

“I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about.”

"Aye aye, and you don't have the slightest ideas of your feelings towards Sir Percival there, do ya?"

"Wh-what!?" She sputtered, and the other three women laughed as Ana’s blush crept down the back of her neck. "I don't have any feelings other than the respect a servant has when they are proud to serve a strong, kind lord."

"Uh-huh," though Leigh gave her a knowing look, Ana simply returned a puzzled, if slightly mortified one. To her grand luck, the issue was dropped. 

As time passed, at least one person seemed to notice where they were, as Gwaine started hurriedly hailing them over. Her friends began walking.

“We may have finished this, but we have to go turn in our baskets…”

 

“Oh, stop worrying. We’ll just be a moment and I’m sure they can do without a few baskets for a moment,” Evelyn reasoned.

Nerida, finishing tying her horses to one of the laundry poles, gave Ana a slight shove. Leigh pulled her hand into her own plump, soft one, finally dragging the other brunette along.

As soon as they were close enough Gwaine pulled them in, his hand lingering most on Evelyn’s pale shoulder. “Good, you’re here. I think they’re just about to finish. It’s been a good match— I hadn’t even known Rawlin had such skill.”

Surely enough they watched as Percival moved his head to the side, narrowly dodging the other’s strike, then with a twisting motion brought his hand up from underneath and around the other knight’s wrist. Sir Rawlin’s sword went flying in an arc and landed with a heavy _thud_ in the grass a few paces away.

As those watching broke out into cheers, the two knights in the center shared a good-natured grin, discussing something Ana couldn’t hear. Percival then looked over and saw her. He jogged over to the group, still slightly panting from the exertion of the battle. He looked over at Gwaine, and his grin took on a roguish quality that somehow quickened Ana’s pulse.

“I believe that makes me the victor.”

“Yes, sadly it does, good friend.”

“And I believe your wager was the victor gets the prize.” 

Gwaine gave a sigh. “It would seem so.”

“Prize?” Leigh voiced the other newcomer’s thoughts.

“I believe,” the king called out from where he strode onto the field, and held up a large, plush, starch-white pillow, “This is what you’re talking about?” The knights around them nodded. “This,” the blonde fluffed it for emphasis, “is what you lot have been fighting about for the past few days?”

“You see, sire, there was some dispute as to who it actually belonged to.” Leon spoke up as he came closer from where he had been standing.

“And?”

“I had the bright idea of settling it with a tournament.” Gwaine gave an awkward smile. “You’re welcome.”

“And who won?”

“This man right here.” Gwaine gave Percival a solid pat against the bicep, which only led to the taller man narrowing levelling him with a glare.

“Perfect. Percival,” the king turned to face him, and gave a slight bow of his head. “It seems I will be your opponent in the finale match for this prize.”

Some knights, Gwaine included gave a light-hearted groan.

“Arthur,” Elyan asked, “don’t you have enough soft pillows already? Since you are, you know, king.” 

“Yes, and now I will have another.” He turned to Percival. “Are you up for it?” The knight gave a slight shrug and a nod, making his way towards the middle of the training grounds once more.

Ana watched as Arthur scanned the crowd, and found Leigh standing nearby. He pushed the pillow into her arms. In an all too serious tone he gave her a nod, “Guard this with your life.”

“This should be good,” Evelyn whispered beside her.

The men met in the center of the field and pulled out their swords, each taking a battle stance. When a third night gave the call they immediately sprang into action, Arthur faking a jump to one side and instead trying to strike Percival from the other. Percival however was standing steadily enough that he could twist his body, using his own sword to block the king’s. He pushed back against the blonde with a shove, and tried to use the opening to catch him off guard. 

Arthur, even while stumbling backwards, kept his sword up and blocked each strike easily. He used his last uneven step as a way to lunge backwards, forcing Percival’s strike forward. As Arthur leaned the other was left pushing into his sword, but quickly turned it so the flat of the blade was facing him and did the same technique from earlier where he put his hand against it and used both of his arms to try and shove the other down. 

Even closer now than she had been before Ana could easily see the sweat gleaming down Percival’s chin, and while the crowd cheered around her she could only focus on the intense look of concentration under his brows. As his servant she had only known his patient, unperturbed side— but now, seeing him in combat, giving his all against the king they all respected, she found herself unable to look away.

Seeming somehow to sense that Arthur was going to duck and roll, Percival pushed off the position and was able to bring his sword down just in time to block the king’s swing. When they both stood again at their full height they circled each other for a few moments, each waiting for the other to strike first. 

As the brunet seemed to be playing it more on the defensive Arthur tossed his sword easily to his other hand and threw a heavy swing, which Percival leaned backwards to avoid. The king apparently anticipated this, taking the chance to swing again in quick succession. With Percival still in the momentum of dodging, and unable to bring his sword up for a counter strike, Arthur lunged, and as the knight tried to bring up his sword to brush the strike away from him Arthur swept out his foot, knocking the other to the ground. 

Percival’s sword fell to the side with a clammer and for a few tense moments the crowd remained quiet enough to hear a pin drop, Arthur standing over him with his sword pointed at the other’s neck in a show of victory. The crowd cheered. A wide smile tugged up one corner of Arthur’s lips as he threw his sword to the ground, holding out both hands to help the other stand. 

They spoke to each other for a bit before coming into earshot. “—excellent use of your strength, but watch your footwork when you stay too long in the defensive.” After a solid nod from Percival, the king then turned to face the rest of his knights. 

“You’ve all done well. Go rest up and get ready for the rest of your duties. You four,” he turned to those closest to him, “remember we have an expedition later. A town nearby has reported sightings of those groups of bandits, and we will ride in the afternoon. If all goes well we should make it there by nightfall. Speaking of…” He turned to scan over the the crowd, and spotted the four servants standing together. “You three were hanging laundry, were you not? Where, pray tell, would my ever-so-dedicated manservant be?”

Her friends’ eyes fell on her, and Ana could feel herself whither under the king’s look. “I, ah, he, ah… he was hanging your clothes with us, however, when we finished— hanging the clothes I mean, the wet clothes, I think… that while we came to watch the sparring, he was called to help Gaius. But, ah, do not worry milord, he did hang all of your clothes! They should be dry by tomorrow, or even by nightfall!”

He gave her skeptical look, and she couldn’t stop from visibly cringing at herself, her eyebrows crumpling in on themselves. The king simply gave a put-upon shake of his heads. “As helpful as you are as a servant, you really are a terrible liar, Liliana.” She mumbled meekly in response. “Just tell the court jester that I expect him to be at my chambers no later than after my next meal to prepare for the expedition.” With her nod he seemed satisfied enough, and then turned to face her friend.

“Leigh, if you will,” after a moment she caught on and placed the pillow into his outstretched hands. With a cheeky grin he gave a salute to his knights, walking off with his prize tucked under his arm. “Thank you, gentlemen.”

As Evelyn teasingly consoled a whining Sir Gwaine, Ana felt a whisper at her ear.

“You’ll thank me later.”

“What do you— ah!?” She didn’t have the time to fully ask the ginger what she meant before she felt a solid shove, and found herself sprawling forward. An arm shot out and caught her just in time. A large, defined arm. A very large, _very defined_ arm. With a rising blush, and the thought _not this again,_ going through her mind, Ana slowly looked up to see a pair of blue eyes blinking down at her. She swore she could hear Nerida giggling.

“Sorry, you know how clumsy this one can be.” 

Ana extricated herself from his arms and patted down her dress, shooting the knight an apologetic smile as her friend came up beside her. “Actually, this happened earlier. She was trying to ride one of my mares and nearly fell off!” Ana shot the ginger a bewildered look. “Is it true you can’t ride a horse?”

“...My father tried to show me, but I must have been seven years old then,” Ana admitted, and wasn’t lying. “After that I guess I never really had the reason or means to learn.”

“Oh, that won’t do, Lil, you really should try it again! It’s so much faster than walking, and they really are beautiful creatures.” Nerida, hands resting against her hips, turned her honey eyes up to the sun. “Ah damn, I’d teach ‘ya myself but I promised mum I’d help her with the kitchens today.” She gave a dismayed sigh. “If only someone wasn’t too busy for the next hour or so…”

Ana, face burning with shame as she realized what Nerida was doing, nearly jumped a meter into the air when the ginger’s intended target finally spoke from beside her.

“If you’d like, I’m not doing anything before Arthur’s expedition,” Percival offered simply, nothing but earnesty in his expression.

Heat seared under Ana’s skin, and indeed she was in the middle of opening her mouth in polite, if stuttered protest when Nerida gave her a hefty pat on the shoulder.

“That would be perfect! I even happen to have ‘yer horse over here, Sir Percival, if you two would follow me.”

The knight, seemingly unaware of any amount of mortification on Ana’s part (however clearly it was displayed in her expression), simply followed the stable maid to where the two horses she had been walking earlier were calmly waiting. Unable to stop this ludicrous plan now that it had gone this far Ana followed suit, albeit a few steps behind. She watched as Percival casually took off his wrist armor and gloves.

Once they reached close enough for her to notice them coming, Honeysuckle started pulling against the rope keeping her in place, making a noise at her knight. With a laugh Percival shifted what he was holding into one hand and used the free one to stroke the horse’s mane. Ana was so caught up in how sweet the scene was she hadn’t even noticed Nerida had untied both horses and was now leaving them with the second one.

“You two enjoy!” She called out, returning Ana’s incredulous glare with an overly-innocent smile.

  
  
  


He knew that he was nowhere near the expert on socialization, but he could at least, often, read the mood of a situation. And as he mounted his horse he could tell Ana seemed particularly tense—indeed, she was so often in good spirits the only other times he had seen her so nervous was when she had to duel Gwaine, and that night when she confessed to him her fear of the dark.

Percy guessed she had probably had a negative experience the last time she had tried to ride a horse. She absently gave the mare nervous strokes along its nose.

“It’s all right. She’s a good one, you won’t get hurt.”

Her eyes, wide and grey as they were, flitted up to his with surprise, before they softened with gratitude. He gave a wave of his hand and Ana stepped up, but after balancing one foot on the stirrup she gave him a confused look, marred with unspoken apologies.

“I—how do I, ah, that is, how do you—" she gestured to the saddle in front of him. He noticed the horse, as he had been given Honeysuckle particularly for her larger than average size, was too tall for her to comfortably get on.

“Switch which foot you’re standing on.”

Once she did so he held out the his arm. When she took it he pulled her up with a rather easy tug. Hearing her surprised gasp he moved back on the saddle slightly, so they wouldn’t have to touch if she wanted to preserve her personal space.

“Thank you, milord.”

“Grab the reins,” he instructed calmly, “and try to sit squarely, in the middle of the saddle. Let your legs rest loosely on either side, but try not to lean too much one way. Let the widest part of your foot rest in each stirrup, with your heels resting down slightly, so your weight isn’t on the ball of your foot.”

She shifted and he could feel her back press against his chest, but the earlier tension from her posture was gone. Percival noticed, with only a slightly fond ghost of a smile, that her feet couldn’t quite comfortably rest reach the stirrups, so he silently put his feet on them, and she substituted, resting her feet over his. Without him needing to say it she rolled her shoulders back, sitting tall without being too stiff.

He found no surprise in how quickly Ana picked up, asking questions and easily following along as he guided her in walking to where she wanted the horse to go. He felt pleasantly calm as they strolled around the area, him calmly praising her in the smoothness of the turn they took.

“Milord, could I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he replied easily.

“Did you yourself name her?”

“Honeysuckle?” She gave a nod. “Not exactly.” Percival’s briefly thoughts drifted back, and he considered leaving it at his usual short response—but somehow, perhaps because of her own open and earnest nature, he found himself wanting to tell her the story behind it.

“It was after I had become accustomed to riding her—we were visiting a town that shared a risky border with a neighboring kingdom. One of the village children fell absolutely in love with her, and I offered to trade her with the horse that family had—but the parents wouldn’t let her take the horse of a knight. The girl pouted so much I thought her face would stick that way.” He chuckled slightly and could feel Ana’s shoulders shake against him as well. “I realized I hadn’t actually decided on what to call the mare yet, and she was so heartbroken I offered to at least let her name it in my place.”

“And she chose Honeysuckle. That was very sweet of you.”

He gave a shrug, before something occurred to him. “That’s the name of a flower, right? Does it have a meaning?”

For a moment there was pensive silence. “It usually represents devotion and fraternal affection, as well as the embrace of a lover.” Percival looked down to see that while her long hair covered most of her ears, the part he could see was tinged an endearing shade of pink. “It’s also thought to mean a pleasant life, without too many clashes or fights in it.”

He couldn’t help a laugh. “I guess that doesn’t apply to mine—even before I became a knight.”

She bumped her shoulder back against his chest teasingly, but her tone was surprisingly sincere. “Then, at least I hope it can start applying to your life in the future, milord.”

“With Gwaine in my life? Never.”

After another laugh he could feel more than see her turn her head up to the sun, and could feel her give a slight start. When she didn’t say anything, however, simply sitting there with her back visibly tense, Percival found himself inquiring.

“Is something the matter?”

“No, I… Well,” with a sigh her shoulders slumped, though she seemed to remember her position on the horse and straightened them back to proper form, and brought Honeysuckle to a calm stop. “I had promised to do something after I hung the laundry, but I must have become more distracted by the duel earlier than I realized, since I completely forgot.” 

“We can go to it now, if you need to.”

“Well I-” She cut herself off in contemplation, and he figured that if Ana wasn’t immediately protesting out of politeness like she always did, this must be something truly important.

“It’s no problem,” he assured her, knowing her well enough to know why she was hesitating. “Like I said, I really have nothing to attend to before the expedition. Er— as long as it’s not something you have to do personally, we can take the horse there.”

Ana twisted in her seat and looked up again with a hopeful expression, her face so close to his he couldn’t help blinking in surprise. “You are sure, milord, that it is no trouble? I have to go into town to deliver a few things.”

He felt himself smile. “Lead the way.”

 

Though he still gave her pointers here and there about posture, or controlling the horse’s movements, Ana for the most part led the mare herself as they made their way first towards the back of the castle, to pick up a basket covered in a cloth, and then towards the town. They went slowly, cautious of the people around them and in no particular rush, and with the sun warming his neck Percival decided this had been a rather pleasant afternoon. 

In a more residential area of the town around the citadel Ana brought the horse to a stop and gathered the basket into her arms. Percival easily dismounted and held out a hand for her, and after she stepped off as well he showed her a secure way to tie the horse’s reins to a post.

He absently readjusted the way his sword sat against his hip, following her into a narrow alleyway which let out into a moderately sized, square commonspace between the back doors of a few houses. Pigs slept lazily in their pen, kids wove around the legs of men as they played in the sun, and women sat mending tunics or peeling vegetables.

“Hello everyone,” Ana quietly announced their presence as she stepped past the alley with a small wave, and immediately most of those in the small plaza looked up from what they were doing to greet her.

“Ana! It’s good to see you again.”

As she made small talk with the closest women, the kids lined up at her light blue skirts, looking up expectantly. 

“You better feed tha’ kiddos before they start a riot.”

“I think that would be wise.” Ana let out a laugh and turned, pulling back the cloth over the basket to reveal loaves of bread. While there were quite a few in quantity, Percival peered down to notice they were all different sizes, with varying degrees of burns or deformities on them.

While handing out the bread to each child as they came forward in line, she seemed to notice Percival’s silent curiosity. The brunette leaned up and inclined her head, whispering to him as she continued her task. “They’re from the kitchen— I saw how many loaves were deemed unfit for serving the nobles, and I asked the head cook to allow me to give them to people in the town instead of feeding them to the pigs or throwing them away.”

A particularly rowdy group of kids pushed forward and for a moment threw Ana off balance. When she caught herself she wagged a lightly scolding finger in their direction, though the affection shining through her eyes negated any effects. “Now now, only one at a time please, we have to share with everyone.” 

The children let out an endearing mix of apologies and whines. 

“Let me,” Percival said, and began handing out loaves as well. The children quickly caught on and made a second line, and with the both of them it went by quickly. With the young fed the two of them made their way around, handing out a few loaves to the adults standing around the area. 

Tucking the cloth back into the now empty basket, Ana gave Percival an infectiously bright smile, which he couldn’t help returning.

“Lady Liliana?”

She looked down, a hint of surprise in her gaze at the title used, at the source of the voice— a young girl who couldn’t have more than six years about her pulling at Ana’s skirt. She stood amongst a group of other children, most her age or younger. The older woman crouched down.

“Yes, Isamaya? And feel free to simply call me Ana.”

“Okay, Ana. Who is this big man with you?”

Ana let out a bit of a sputter, while a low chuckle simply slipped from Percival’s lips. He squatted down next to her to face the children, and gave a small smile. Ana leaned in close to him, and gave a conspiratorial whisper in his ear.

“Are you sure about this, milord?”

“Yes,” he whispered back.

“Are you absolutely certain?”

“Yes.”

She turned back to the group. “This kind man accompanying me today is Sir Percival. He is the lord I serve, and an esteemed knight of Camelot.” 

She stood up with a brush of her skirts as the kids swarmed him with awed gasps and frenzied questions. He laughed as he held his arms out to catch the kids who stumbled too far forward. When he blinked up he caught Ana’s gaze, and after a slightly mischievous, if exasperated, look she went to go speak with the women. 

Though this was definitely not how he had expected his day to go, Percival didn’t have a moment where he wasn’t enjoying himself— in truth he had always enjoyed visiting the town, and being around the contagious energy of the children, but he no longer found the time. In a way he was grateful for this turn of events. He answered their many questions about battle and castle life, let the kids hold his sword while sheathed, and showed them a few defensive hand-to-hand moves. 

As the hour progressed Percival found himself looking up over at the brunette who had brought him here, and he found that each time she was speaking to a different person. At one point she was speaking to a few of the older townsmen. He was making a point about the importance of a good stance, the crowd of children trying in vain to shove him down, when he looked up and shared a knowing look with Ana. With a grin he held out his arms wide and stood up with a hefty push of the ground, lifting the kids who were wrapped around him up with him, leaving them screeching with joy and dangling from his arm and torso. The conversation Ana was having broke as she giggled so hard he swore that even from this distance he could hear her snort.

He considered it a win.

After a considerable amount of time continued to pass, her feminine voice caught his ear from overhead.

“If it’s alright, I think we should get going.” This was followed by a protest of children’s whines, which Ana responded to by leaning down and ruffling the hair of a few of them. “Now now, we must allow Sir Percival to return to his knightly duties.”

Placated by the mention of his knighthood the children gave their goodbyes and dispersed from the crowd. Ana offered her tan hand to help him stand up once again. As they made their way back through the small square they passed a woman who called out to them.

“Ana, dear, you were so helpful last week, could I hire you ‘ta come again next week when ‘yer not too swamped as an extra set of hands to mend the clothes? The men will be coming back from their trip so I’m sure there will be lots o’ holes to fill.” 

“Of course, Joselyn.” 

“‘Yer a peach.”

They had just began walking through the narrow alleyway, her slight shoulder brushing against his arm, when one of the women called out again in a suggestive tone.

“Have fun, you two!”

Though Ana shot a scandalized look back over her shoulder they mounted the horse and made their way back in high spirits.

A comfortable silence fell over them as they made their way through the town and up towards the castle. Deciding that Ana seemed comfortable enough on the horse he broke the silence, suggesting, “Why don’t you try giving her some speed?”

She gave a nod.

With some more guidance she lead the horse into a gallop across the field and towards the stables, riding adjacent to the line of the forest. He laughed alongside her comfortably as the wind picked up. Distracted by the way her dark hair was feather light against his bare arms he noticed only too late when something small scurried across their path, making Honeysuckle come to a sudden stop. The horse reeled back in terror, kicking her front feet up with a loud neigh, progressing to stand almost entirely vertical.

His arms shot out to grasp over where Ana’s hands were on the rein, stopping him from falling off as she fell squarely back against his chest. Purely on instinct one of his arms wrapped around her waist, the other shifting to grip the reins more firmly. After managing to get the horse to calm down, he and Ana sat panting slightly.

Percival turned his head to look at her just as she turned to look up at him.

“Are you alright?”

“Are you hurt, milord?”

They spoke in nearly exact unison. But as she blushed he was lost in the realization that her face was suddenly so much closer than it usually was, now that they were sitting, and again he found himself mesmerized at the amount of freckles scattered over her tanned skin, over the dainty slope of her nose. Percival belatedly realized he was still holding her, and quickly dropped his arm.

With a nod he cleared his throat and turned his head back to facing directly forward. “And you?”

“Just fine, thanks to you, sire.”

He felt something unfamiliar pluck at his chest. For a moment they only sat in silence, however it no longer felt quite as comfortable as it had been before.

“Do you want me to lead her back to the stable?”

“No—that’s— ah, if it is okay with you, milord, I can do it.”

He gave a nod and she lead the horse back, at the original calm pace they had been riding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why?? Do I only ever get the muse to write late at night?? Why can't I for once be productive at a normal hour?? It's 1:30 am, I have to wake up at 9 am, and I'm editing the 18-ish google docs pages of this chapter. On that note, do you prefer the longer or the shorter chapters? Also,,, I hope the way Percy speaks doesn't sound too off, it's just hard to characterize him when he never got his own episode?? When he (and Leon) really should have.


	9. Begonia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ana nodded and rode away, and she still seemed so out of it Merlin wasn’t sure if she herself even realized she was making her way back towards Percival. Worried, he kept his eye on her, but though she seemed more tense as the journey into the evening continued, neither she nor the knight next to her seemed to mind the silence as they went on.

In one minute he was speaking to a kind maid, and in the next Merlin was being called by a snap of his lord and king’s fingers, leaving him to hurry after the blond’s quick pace down the corridor. The blond in question seemed to be in the same mood he was always in when he was busy, which of course meant bad news for Merlin. At this point, though, he was happy to note that he was finally finding himself able to just tune it all out.

“—are you even listening to me, you nitwit?”

Through some small miracle Merlin was able to reach just far back enough into his immediate memory to parrot back the last few words Arthur had been saying, before he even consciously realized what those words were.

“Of course, milord, you said ‘horses at the courtyard immediately, dollop head’— which,” before Arthur’s glare could get too fierce Merlin quickly added on to his own mistake, speed walking further ahead into the corridor, “I will do right now! At this very instant!”

He managed to duck around the corner just in time to miss a flying gauntlet whizzing past his head.

In a half hour’s time he was finished buckling the last strap to the last horse, packing their food rations, and mounting the horses. The few knights who had been called to this expedition had already gathered, with Arthur and Leon going over strategies only a few paces away.

Merlin looked up suddenly to see three women pushing through the grand doors and descending the steps towards them—though more accurately it was Evelyn who strode down the steps with her usual easy confidence, platinum blonde hair bouncing behind her alongside her two who seemed quite a bit more nervous than she.

“Sire,” the blonde spoke in her low voice, with tone where Merlin could tell she hadn’t quite become used to saying titles even after working for months at the castle. “If I may make a suggestion?”

“Certainly,” Arthur replied, though not without a skeptical look.

“It is to my understanding you are to look for the group of bandits tonight led by Alein the Terrible.”

“Yes, and what of it?”

“I believe you should take us with you.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, that Arthur broke by giving an even more skeptical look to the two women who were remaining anxiously silent. “’Us’? And why would I agree to that?”

“As I’m sure you know, Alein’s group is most known for two things: their constant evasiveness, and their illegal chains of slave trading—”

“Could you please get to the point? We haven’t the time to spare.”

Though her face retained its usual neutral expression, Merlin could note the slightest twitch in Evelyn’s forehead, though it quickly smoothed itself back to normal. In the meantime, however, it was Ana who continued making the point, however hesitantly.

“The group that kidnapped each of us, the three of us, milord, that we came to this castle to escape from, as we told you, is the very group you are searching for today.”

“I believe,” Leigh spoke up as well, “what my companions are trying to say, milord, is since we have seen their faces, and overheard, albeit very little, of the whereabouts of their base, we could prove helpful in you journey.”

Arthur seemed to think over it for a moment, and Merlin realized he and the knights were watching this interaction with full attention. “…There may only be few of us going, but this will be no easy task, you know.”

“We can take care of ourselves,” Evelyn spoke again, before her eyes flickered languidly towards the group of knights. “And if we find ourselves overwhelmed, it will be a good thing your knights are such skilled fighters, will it not?”

Arthur uncrossed his arms, and Merlin could see the muscle that was always busy whenever he was deeply considering something working in his jaw. “You said you heard of the whereabouts of their base?”

The three women nodded, and Evelyn said, “We have reason to believe it is just west off the town of Azmar, near the Myrefall woods, which I have been told they have been raiding at night quite often these past few weeks.”

Merlin was admittedly surprised to hear that the information she provided was very similar to, and had more detail than, what he had overheard Arthur himself discussing earlier at the round table with the knights. Merlin glanced over. The king seemed to come to this conclusion as well.

“Very well, but if fighting breaks out, make sure to stay out of the way unless you have specifically been trained for battle.” He seemed to direct that last part specifically at Evelyn, no doubt remembering the duel she had, somewhat accidentally, had with Gwaine. “Merlin, we require more horses. Now. We’re already running behind as it is—” he turned to address the entire group, “be ready to ride as soon as Merlin is back, we must get to Azmar before nightfall.”

Soon enough the afternoon sun was resting over them above the trees. Evelyn and Ana were riding their own horses and Leigh, who confessed to never having ridden one before, was thus sharing with Elyan. Neither of the two seemed too unhappy over this arrangement.

They rode at a slightly quicker pace than normal, but it was still a mostly calm journey—though merlin couldn’t shake the feeling that it was more of a calm before the storm. Though a period of relative peace had befallen Camelot, these missions always had a knack to go wrong.

From his place riding near the back he could see the rest of the group; Arthur was leading in front, as always, with Leon near his side. What caught his eye most, however, was how even as the group’s positions moved and shifted as conversations started up and finished between different people, Percival and Ana spent nearly the entire time riding side-by-side, keeping up a conversation almost effortlessly. When they weren’t directly speaking to each other there was either a comfortable silence between them, or Ana was chuckling softly at the banter of the knights. Merlin could swear he even heard Percival laugh more than twice.

He couldn’t keep the wry grin off his own face.

After an hour or more of riding, the sun slowly dipping into the horizon, there was a moment Ana rode her horse up next to his, and he could sense anxiety radiating off of her.

“Merlin, could I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why is it we’re riding late, instead of in the morning like usual? Isn’t it difficult to travel in the evening?”

“Azmar doesn’t lie that far away from the citadel,” he explained, “and Arthur wanted to get there before the bandits get there in time for their raid, but late enough that we’re not spotted.”

“Oh, of course.” Though she was biting at her lip, she nodded absently in understanding. “Is that also why so few knights are assembled for this journey?”

“Aye, to not arouse any suspicion.”

As she fell silent he looked over at her, noticing again the initial nerves he had sensed coming from her. He continue to study her for a long longer, and he saw that she was so lost in thought, her usually tan arms turning much paler as she held the reins in a vice grip, that she didn’t seem to notice.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

She looked up again with a slight start. “Oh yes— no I’m fine—sorry to worry you.”

He couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at her. “If you’re sure…”

Ana nodded and rode away, and she still seemed so out of it Merlin wasn’t sure if she herself even realized she was making her way back towards Percival. Worried, he kept his eye on her, but though she seemed more tense as the journey into the evening continued, neither she nor the knight next to her seemed to mind the silence as they went on.

Gwaine then rode up to him with his usual friendly grin, and Merlin felt his own lips quirk at his friend’s naturally infectious good mood. They spent the rest of the ride jesting and talking, and it went by rather quickly.

  
  
  


They arrived to the town of Azmar about an hour after the sun had fully set over the horizon. Having confided in her friends earlier about her fear of the dark—however much shame she felt towards it aside— they kindly kept close to her, as they all dismounted their horses and were taken into the village, calming her nerves just by their presence. Ana did her best to keep her face neutral, not wanting to betray her weakness, nor worry Sir Percival, whose gaze flitted towards hers once or twice once they were no longer next to each other.

As they walked further along, Arthur in front guided by the town’s chief, it became less and less difficult; the scenery had her almost entirely distracted. Though she had traveled to and lived in multiple towns throughout her life with her brother they had always been calm farming towns, where she could put to use and further cultivate her skills as a florist. But this village, which she quickly realized was primarily occupied by traders and blacksmiths, was entirely different.

It was bustling and loud, even at night, with fires burning in every window, the smell of roasted meat wafting around as a constant presence, and people merrily walking about. Though the village wasn’t particularly large the boisterous laughter and vivacious attitudes of its residents made Azmar seem to hold more people than it did. The buildings were made of strong wood and dark bricks, a few beams here and there further supported with rods of metal, in a way Ana had never seen. She couldn’t help her own wide-eyed gaze as she turned her head in every direction, taking in the crowded houses and the few merchants still trying to sell their glassware to the late-night goers.

She realized, with a sense of wonder, that Azmar somehow retained a mix of the familial, welcoming pastoral towns she had so often inhabited with the bustling, lively town around the citadel of Camelot all at once.

She was brought back to her senses with a gentle elbow nudging at her side, and looked up to see Evelyn whispering at her.

“You’re gaping.”

Ana blushed, and made a point to stare straight ahead.

“Oh, leave her,” Leigh said with a slightly teasing smile. “I think it’s rather sweet.”

She was thankfully spared from having to stutter out some kind of response by the rest of the group coming to a halt, as the chief of the village stopped before a sturdy-looking inn with elaborate designs carved into the door. The proprietress came out to meet them, curtsying humbly with the many folds of her skirts just in front of the king. As Ana and her friends shifted closer she could hear what the robust woman with a kind smile was saying, and she could tell by the light of the torch Merlin carried that the woman’s eyes were sparkling with pride.

“The rooms for you and your men, sire, have been kept in the highest standard. I hope you’re able to find it agreeable.”

“Thank you for the accommodations,” as Arthur spoke in his diplomatic voice the group followed and walked along the gravel path. “I have heard tales of the wonderous Silver Spire even from the castle, and I can already tell it lives up to those words.”

The proprietress giggled in a very flattered manner, and Ana could just hear Merlin scoff in front of her.

“Charmer,” she he muttered, and she made sure to give him a discreet nudge with her elbow into his back. “Ow!”

She laughed as he turned to face her with a mischievous look, but Leigh’s admonishing look, however softened by the light of humor in her deep brown eyes, shushed them quickly enough.

They were all shown into their rooms, the four knights sharing a room with a large oak door, the three women sharing a smaller room and, much to the mumbled complaints of the blond once he was out of earshot of the proprietress, Arthur and Merlin shared the final, grandest room. The three women departed with orders to stay in their chambers unless called for, and were walking away as the king gave patrol orders to his knights.

Ana sat on her small but surprisingly plush bed untying her hair. She noted that the name of the inn was carved neatly into the foot frame. Since it was the middle of summer the fire place was left quite untouched, and she made a neat pile of the layers of clothes she removed, leaving only her slip as she climbed underneath the covers.

“I’m rather sure this is the softest bed I have ever slept on,” Leigh followed suit. Ana couldn’t help but giggle as she heard her own thoughts voiced aloud. “Though,” her friend continued, turning to face her “the servants’ chambers at Duke Eluard’s manor would give these a run for their gold.”

“I’m simply glad to finally be able to wear trousers. I find skirts to become rather exhausting at one point or another,” Evelyn added with a sigh.

“Where you come from were skirts not common?”

“I wouldn’t say they were a rarity, but no they weren’t what anyone was often seen wearing. They just weren’t practical enough for training.”

Ana looked over to notice the blonde was still fully dressed, and only sitting on top of her sheets. “Are you not going to sleep?”

“… No, I would rather look out the window and keep an eye for the attack of Alein’s bandits.”

Ana and Leigh shared a worried look, and the latter spoke first. “We were told to stay here until morning unless called upon.”

“The knights are strong, and brave,” Ana added, “I have no doubt they can handle this on their own.”

“Besides, we would probably only be in their way. Come to bed, Eve.”

Though a look of protest crossed over the sharp planes of the blonde’s features, Evelyn removed one layer of clothing and lay down in bed, without saying a word. Leigh and Ana shared another look, before blowing out the candle and leaving the room in darkness.

  
  
  


Ana woke from the haze of light sleep to the sound of distant yelling. She sat up to see Evelyn tying up her boots, swearing to herself as she stared out the window.

“Where are you going?” Leigh asked, pushing away the short tendrils of black hair that fell over her round face.

“They will be too busy protecting the villagers to properly fend off the men. I can already see there are more bandits intruding than Arthur had anticipated.”

“Evelyn, wait—”

“I am getting my revenge on Alein.” With a chilly, even tone Evelyn grabbed a dagger from her garter and strode out of the room.

A hesitant silence passed over the room, and Ana looked over to see her Leigh clutching at the sheets of her bed. “What should we do? I don’t know how to fight, we would only be a bother… but if Eve is right, and there are too many to keep the villagers safe…”

Ana too glanced out the window, trepidation grasping at her heart. Outside it was the pitch of night, and even now by simply being awake for too long in the dark confines of the unfamiliar room she could feel her own fears begin to creep up on her. But as she leaned forward she caught a view of her own hand illuminated in the moonlight, thin and slightly trembling, and a brief image of the bravery of Camelot’s knights came into her mind. When she finally spoke she could hear the quiver in her own voice, but there was a steel behind it that surprised her.

“We may not be able to fight, but there are other things we can do. We have to try to help.”

Before her friend could respond she heard screams distinctly close by, the highness of their pitch sounding almost like that of a child’s. Leigh’s head shot up, and after a breath she gave Ana a firm nod. They threw on their boots and ran out the door with no time to change out of their night gowns.

Ana’s feet hit the gravel outside as the oppressive heat of a nearby fire only added to the summer’s warmth.

“There and there!” her friend called, pointing to two buildings in nearly opposite directions where small figures, silhouetted in the moonlight, huddled together. More of the villagers joined them, some holding pitchforks and gardening hoes.

“’Yer part of the envoy of the king, right?” A man called from the small crowd. “What should we do?”

Leigh tilted her chin up and addressed them. “Those of you who know how to fight, try and help any of the knights facing a group of bandits, to better even the numbers. Those of you who do not, run to the wells and try to put out these fires. Ana and I will bring those currently stranded to the stone chapel, where they will be safe. Meet there when you are done.”

With shouts of agreement the group disbanded. Just as Ana was about to turn she felt Leigh grab her hand.

“Stay safe.”

“You too.”

They took off in opposite directions. As Ana made her way across the grass she passed Evelyn, and watched as the woman disarmed a man to wield his own sword against the other bandits. Soon Leon was at her side and helping, and Ana kept on going. The one bittersweet blessing of the evening was that between all the chaos of the surroundings, and all the light of torches and fires, Ana was able to push away the feeling of night, to ignore the tremble of her wrists.

She went towards a house that was half-consumed in flames, though the straw on the roof seemed to be taking the worst of it. She stopped, breathing heavily, just before the figure of a young boy. She crouched in front of him and he frantically pointed inside of the house.

“My family is in there but I can’t get the door open!”

“Stand back.” After a few shoves with her shoulder the door caved in, and she saw a girl only a few years younger than she huddling around a group of five smaller children. “Come quickly,” they hurried through the door, Ana bending down to pick up two of the kids. “The chapel is where you will be safe, come with me.”

They only made it a few steps before she heard a groan behind her, and she turned to see the boy who had been outside of the house had fallen flat on his knees, a bandit leering maliciously over him.

“Go!” She hollered to the eldest sister and looked frantically around her as the sister went sprinting in the direction of the stone building a distance away.

Ana panicked, shifting so that the child in her left arm could cling tighter to her neck, freeing her hand enough to pick up and throw the biggest rock she could find. Miraculously, it connected with the man’s jaw.  
He whirled on her, and she did her best not to wither under his bloodthirsty expression. He twirled his dagger in his hand, approaching with even steps. She tried to back up, but was met with solid wall.

“That wasn’t very nice now, was it, girlie?”

Ana set down the children, the third who had fallen joining them, and they quickly huddled behind her legs. She could feel their fists cling to the thin, cheap fabric of her nightgown. She felt her breath leave her lungs as the scene of a distant fire mixed with the feeling of the terrified kids around her, memories of her younger brother in a similar position surging to life behind her eyes. Suddenly, as she bent down and grabbed the only other large rock she could find, she felt a wave of protectiveness come over her, and she returned the man’s gaze with a raw edge to her voice.

“Stay— _stay back_.” She held up the rock, barely bigger than her first.

He laughed menacingly even as she cocked back her hand, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, I am really scared now.” Just as he held his blade up, only a few steps distance away, his eyes raked over her. “Maybe I won’t kill you, though. A bit too lanky, a bit too short, but I think I might be able to grab a good price for ‘ye on the market. Or maybe I’ll keep ‘ya for myself.”

A few more bandits, sensing an easy target, gathered. She pressed herself as far as she could against the wall and threw the rock. Though the man easily dodged it he only just had time to notice the man who had come up behind him, throwing himself against the grass to avoid the knight’s blade.

“Go!” Percival yelled as he fended off two more men.

For a moment Ana only felt her ears ring, her feet suddenly paralyzed in fear. All of the noise around her came to an oddly quiet hum, and time seemed to slow as Percival made eye contact with her, speaking again but in a much calmer, deep voice. “Don’t look back. I’ll be here.”

She felt a tug at her skirt. Her senses came rushing back to her as she gathered two of the kids into her arms, knelt down for the third child to clamber up onto her back, and took off at a run for the chapel. Though she could hear metal ringing and grunts crying out she kept her word and didn’t look back, trusting that Percival could take care of them himself.

Her breath came out in ragged pants as she barreled through the chapel doors, and as the family around her reunited she quickly scanned the room to find her friend. “Is anyone else out there?”

“No one that can’t fend for themselves,” Leigh responded, and Ana came to join her. “Elyan just brought in supplies, help me bandage these men. Merlin can get a good look at them later, but for now we have to treat the burns and stop the bleeding—luckily only few sustained more than a couple scratches.”

She wasn’t sure when the battle finished, only that at one point she was grinding a poultice for Merlin to spread over burns, and the only people left to tend to the wounds of were the knights themselves. In the distance through the open doors she could see the king speaking to the town chief, standing over a group of men bound by rope.

“Press down here for me, milord.”

She knelt beside Sir Gwaine, tying a bandage up the length of his arm. From a small distance away she could hear Leigh sternly scolding Evelyn, even as she finished tying off a bandage around the latter’s leg. Ana couldn’t hold back a fond chuckle.

“She’s really letting her have it, huh?” The knight above her said, his gaze resting fondly in the same direction.

“Yes… I think it’s the older sister tendencies in her.”

“Wouldn’t you have that too?” Though his face was drawn with lines of exhaustion, the look he gave her held his usual hint of amusement. She couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast between the carefree, friendly attitude that he generally held, versus the focused, skilled intensity- that all the knights seemed to share- she had seen on him from a distance when he fought earlier that night.

“Well, I have only ever had to look after my little brother.” She finished off the knot and leaned back, cleaning her hands in the pail of water beside her. “Leigh told me she has not only looked after her extended family, but also her one older and five younger siblings.”

“A true mother hen, then.” They looked over as Leon spoke to the town physician, giving out orders to the uninjured villagers and looking, as always, as the man who knew exactly what to do in any given situation. “Just like our Leon,” Gwaine added, and they chuckled again.

As he got up to leave she felt another presence over her.

“Ah, milord, are you hurt?”

Percival shook his head. He seemed about to say something, but as she stood something caught his eye. “But you are.”

Her gaze traveled down, and she could see just where the hem of her night dress stopped her calf was already bruising, dry blood plastered down the side.

“Ah,” though her eyes blinked in surprise, she found her voice was rather calm, exhaustion keeping her from any emotional reaction. “I guess I hadn’t noticed, I’ll ask Leigh to—”

A large hand fell over her shoulder and gently pushed her to sit back against the seat Gwaine had previously occupied. With more surprise than she had felt towards her own injury she watched as Percival knelt in front of her.

Ana somehow found herself struck speechless as he dipped a cloth in the clean water and dabbed away at her wound. Perhaps it was the leftover adrenaline, or even the gentleness with which he cleaned the cut (which really was only a shallow scratch over the upper part of her calf), but Ana felt no pain, only the radiant warmth of his hand that held her leg in place. Head bent he began tying bandage, and from this position she could finally see the top of his head. As the light of a nearby torch caught against the short strands of his hair she found that she couldn’t quite place their color—in some parts it was a brown almost light enough to be blond, and in others, mainly where his ear cast a shadow, or on the far side at the nape of his neck, it was more like a deep walnut.

Her mind drifted back to what her friends had teased her about earlier this day (though it felt like a lifetime ago already).

_Oh no._

“There.” He sat back and she absently flickered her gaze back down to her leg.  
It took her a moment to truly come back to herself, and once she did the kindness of his actions hit her with a stark shock. “Mi-milord!” She felt her face flush as she realized she had made a knight tend to her feet. A _knight_ tend to _her_ feet. “You really didn’t need to do that, I’m only a servant I-“

Ana stopped as she heard him laugh richly, almost knowingly at her protests. He stood up, brushing off his hands. “There’s no such thing as ‘just’ a servant. Serving is an honorable job.”

Had a ghost stolen her words? For perhaps the umpteenth time today she found herself without a clue as to how to respond. She resorted to staring at him, silently, at the contrast of his kind eyes against his sharp, square features.

“And everyone deserves to have their injuries looked at.” He raised a single eyebrow at her, the slight, sincere amusement on his face setting her at ease.

She smiled back at him. “Yes, of course.”

She simply held his gaze, continuing to watch the flickering of the nearby flame reflected in the blue of his eyes. After a moment longer she looked over his shoulder, or rather around it, to see Arthur waving at the other knights and servants.

“I think the king needs us.”

They crossed the distance towards Arthur, who gave a weary sigh before addressing the group. “The men we were able to interrogate confirmed the exact location of Alein’s hideout. Elyan?”

“I can confirm none of the bandits were able to escape the town to notify him of our presence, sire.”

“Then the threat for now is gone. Go back to the inn, gather your strength and rest while you can. We ride at first light.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, okay, I just want to confess: I watched the Lamia episode and got a bunch of feels for Percival, and vaguely entertained how cute a fic would be for him. And then a lot later, after I watched the second episode of season 5 I got really busy and couldn't watch for a good while. In that time I planned out the entirety of this fic and etc in my notes on my phone, and tHEN as I slowly wrote it, everything already planned out, I kept watching season 5. I just finished it a few days ago, and I??? I was just so shook, throughout the entire season, how many of the things I plotted accidentally happened in the show?? Like, not to spoil too much (both for the show and the fic), but small things like meeting someone from the stable, and big things like some future stuff that's going to happen in the fic.  
> I guess I'm better at predicting things than I thought. ASDasdf I feel rather guilty about it, but I'm not going to change the fic because I really didn't intend to copy the show, and the plot points are too central to the fic. I'll try and handle things so they stray away from the show, so there not at least a carbon copy but uh,,, yeah. I apologize! Don't come at me with pitchforks pls. But if you want to leave a comment, like what you like or what you would like to see, or leave some kudos, that's pretty cool.


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